


Turian "Cake", Azure Towers, and Forth of July

by MinMaxie



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Conversations, Drinking, Drinking Games, Earthborn (Mass Effect), F/M, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Food, Food Issues, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gift Giving, Interspecies Relationship(s), Late Night Conversations, Mass Effect 2, Oral Sex, Other, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Paragade (Mass Effect), Phone Calls & Telephones, Renegon (Mass Effect), Romantic Fluff, Roughhousing, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stitches, Team Milky Way (Mass Effect), Vanguard (Mass Effect), Walk Into A Bar, War Hero (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-11-23 20:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 66,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11409384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinMaxie/pseuds/MinMaxie
Summary: Part of a larger work in progress.  Read notes for backstory and helpful context, though not critical.Edited summary!Mid ME2:Enter a secretly mentally unstable, Shepard who (after her break with Liara) is sick of her usual woman-favoring decides to try turian, and doesn't much care who or how.  Now, imagine the dollar signs in her eyes when she spots a booth full of some of the best dark meat on the Citadel.  However, a one night stand turns into a crazy weekend-long romp powered by stims, guns, and asari hotel room, as well as unexpected feelings for the one turian who, inexplicably, holds the keys to her sanity.If you're here for fluff and lots of smut, you've come to the right place.





	1. Turian "Cake"

**Author's Note:**

> **Shepard's Recommended listening-** "Cake" by Flo Rida  & 99 Percent as well as the "Getdown Remix" . In fact, just put those two songs in a Spotify playlist and set it to loop. 
> 
> **Backstory:** Earth-born, War-hero, Renegon Femshep has Borderline and Disassociative Personality Disorder. This is my own head cannon to explain the multiple dialog choices in the games. They are literally three different voices in her head. One is "Ruby of the Tenth Street Reds", or "Ruby Red". She is the psychopathic, xenocidal, gang leader Shepard used to be when she was 5-18 years old. The second is "Jane Doe Shepard" because that's what the Alliance named her when she showed up with no records one day. She's the picture perfect, by the book, solider as well as the one created to keep Ruby locked up. When one of these two personas takes full control, that explains the blue a red dialog...imho.  
>  However, the third, middle dialog choice is the mostly quiet "real" or "host" personality. Sadly, this orphaned girl has no name of her own since Ruby was created when she was only four years old.  
> So, when "Shepard" is mentioned that refers to the woman as a whole. Jane is the blue one, Ruby is the red one. Make sense? No? Ok...  
> Also, Jane has default FemShep appearance and voice, but Ruby has a THICK south Texas accent...and used to wear boots made out of some poor Turian's feet and used a Krogan crest as a helmet. Yeah, she's crazy.  
> More tags will be added as chapters get published.
> 
>  _ **Thanks for reading!**_ Leave Kudos/Comments/Crit/Advice/etc if you have interest in the whole story!

The Turian councilor huffed down in the curved booth next to him comrades and immediately ordered a round of drinks.

"Glad you make it Councilor."  
"Tarquin, please, Decian is fine...Sparatus if you must... I've retired for the day."  
"That kind of day huh?"  
"Adrian, brother, you don't know the half of it."  
  
With that, the most senior of the men trilled curiously, but before he spoke the drinks arrived.  Decian's first barely hit the table before he downed it in a single gulp, resulting in further concerned looks and sounds from his friends.  General Oraka, question still hanging on his tongue, spoke first.  
  
"Ok, I know we're not supposed to ask but..."    
Decian cut him off with a growled response over raised glass.  
"Shepard's back...."  
Every member of the table chocked and spat on their drinks except Sparatus who kept gulping his beverage with purpose.  
"Say WHAT??"

The councilor just rolled his eyes at the senior general, he was always the one to perk up first at the mention of women.

"Wait," the youngest of them mumbled, "Dad, I thought you said Shepard was dead?"  
"She is son," Adrian replied with a hint of grief in his voice before looking at their political brother, "That's why Decian's claim is so bizarre."  He glared at the curved booth's edge most seat where the grumpy turian was sitting silently and ordering a second round, or really his third.  Decian didn't even look up, but heard the man's accusatory tone loud and clear.  
"Don't ask me to explain it, but it was definitely her and she was definitely in my court today."  
"Spirits, she's HERE??"  Tarquin almost stood in his seat with excitement, "The Legendary Commander Shepard is here??"  His eyes darted around the room, searching for her signature flame red hair, as if her presence on the Citadel was the same as her being in the bar with them.

"Son, please," Victus Sr. put a hand over his son's to calm him down, but Decian casually pointed his fringed head out towards the crowd and grumbled.  
"Don't believe me Adrian?  Why don't you ask him?"   
The men followed where their friend had pointed and let out a combined gasp.

"Vakarian!"   
Pallin stood up and called out from the back of the booth with his hand high in the air, arguably overly excited to see a man he technically fired.  The blue Turian visibly perked up upon hearing the name and looked over his left shoulder at the source.  He shot the group of men a hard to read look that seemed to combine excitement, nervousness, surprise and exasperation, but eventually took his order with a nod to the bartender and walked towards the large Turian-filled booth.

"Why is he holding his head funny?" Pallin wondered out loud and three bird-like heads flicked towards him and chirped in confusion.  The exception was, of course, Decian's who had already seen the man once today. 

"Executor Pallin, General Oraka, General Victus…. Councilor." 

Vakarian nodded and politely nodded at each member of the table in order of rank, starting with his former boss and working down the hierarchy from there - except he left Decian for last, purposely, and only gave him a small glare through narrowed eyes. 

"And I'm afraid we haven't formally met yet, although I have a guess."  The casual, slightly dry humor was back in his voice as he addressed the youngest of the group, although "young" is probably wrong word.  Vakarian could see that the two of them were fairly close in age, though he was probably younger by a year or two…. or a decade if measured in experience.  
"What's your guess?" the elaborately painted man replied with an upturned twitch of his head.  
"Markings aside, you're a dead ringer for the man next to you so I'm assuming you're General Victus' son."  
"Good eye, name's Tarquin." He stood up and reached over the table to shake the newcomer's hand who extended his arm as well and replied with a chuckle.  
"I am a sniper, being observant is part of the job."  
"Sit Garrus," Oraka said as he and the Victus clan moved further down the booth to make room on the edge for him.  His voice was genuinely friendly, as was the rest of the table (save the politician who kept drinking in silence), but from his seat in the right side of center Pallin was gaping at the blue armored man.  After the new edition to their party was seated, left side facing the Turian crew, the Executor finally blurted it out.

"Spirits Garrus…. What happened to your FACE?"

Vakarian put his hand over the gnarly bandage and turned away embarrassed.  To be honest, there were times he could forget it was there, but telling the story over and over was getting old.

"Short version: Gunship rocket."  When the only reply was a series of wincing and remorseful sounds from the other men, Garrus flicked his good mandible in silent laughter and deflected.  
"Don't.  I'm fine, but the same can't be said for the other guy."  Punctuated by a sly smile and a sip of his drink, Pallin caught his meaning and laughed whole heartedly.

"Oh, Spirits help me Vakarian, I always knew you were trouble!  Still, it's good to see you're still breathing.  I know our last conversation was-" A look of guilt started to spread across the C-Sec man's face but Garrus shook his head and waved it off.  
"Not a problem sir.  I know it wasn't personal, and honestly, the feeling was mutual.  I've never been happier."  
"Your father's going to have a _fit_ when he hears that."  Victus Sr. joked over crossed arms as he sat back.  He had known Vakarian Sr. for decades now, and was sure of one thing:  Castis Vakarian must have done something horrible in a past life to deserve being cursed with Garrus for a son. 

He liked Garrus, truly he did, but raising him?  That must be a fresh hell.

"So," _speaking of sons_ Adrian thought as he watched his own mostly grown child speak up, wild enthusiasm in his eyes.  "How did you take out the gunship?  Did you actually keep fighting after getting hit?"

Garrus sighed, "As much as it pains me to admit… No, I didn't keep fighting.  I immediately fell into an embarrassing blue puddle."  He hid behind his drink, but Tarquin pressed on. 

"Ok, yeah, we'd all probably do the same, but _who_ took out the gunship then?"  Everyone who had known Garrus for more than twenty minutes knew what he was about to say just by the shameless, happy, smug twinkle in his eye.

"Shepard did.  I didn't get to see it, but I heard it involved heavy weapons, biotics, and a whole lot of screaming…followed quickly by a large explosion."  He took a sip.  "From what I understand, it was very impressive."

"So, Shepard _is_ alive??"  Oraka asked almost breathless while gripping Garrus's arm.  
"Sure is," he replied grinning.  "More so than you, old man."  
"Hey, I'm not that old!"  
"I'll never say it again sir, if you promise not to spread this news around."  
"Or mention that she's working with Cerberus…."

The whole table whipped around to stare wide-eyed at the previously silent council member, but Garrus followed it up with a loud, protective growl.  He didn't even realize he was standing until Oraka put a hand on his back to calm him down.  He fell back into his seat with a fuming snort, but when his eyes fell back to the table near his drink he realized that his talons had carved deep scratches in its surface.  He waved his arms with annoyance. 

"Oh, seriously?  They're going to cater to a Turian crowd and don't use metal tables??  I am NOT paying for that."   
"That's actually pretty shitty…." Tarquin admitted with a small nod.  
"Right??  Fuck this….  What could you POSSIBLY be laughing at, "Sparty"?  Haven't you pissed me off enough for one day?"

Decian hadn't flinched, not even a fraction.  He remained his cold, composed self the entire time; just relaxing.  Legs crossed, one arm over his midsection, and the other holding his probably 5th glass of alcohol.  Slowly he narrowed his dark eyes at the hotheaded youngster and flicked his mandibles.

"You are starting to sound like her."  
"I…"

Garrus stopped mid word, hand raised to rebut, but slowly closed it into a fist and sat back as far as the booth would allow in an angry pout.  Everyone else busted laughing.  In more polite conversation they wouldn't have been so obvious, but they were all borderline drunk and inhibition was all but gone.  
 

"Well, he _would_ know," Oraka said while nudging Garrus in the side, "He's the only one of us brave enough to get on the Commander's bad side and _stay_ there!"   
"Yeah," Garrus snarled still locked in the staring contest with the unflappable councilor. "Or _stupid_ enough.  Hard to tell which is which sometimes…don't you think?  Sparty?"  
"Don't call me that Vakarian."  
"Shepard does, and it makes you angry.  So, sorry _Sparty_ I think I'll keep it until you give me a reason to respect you again."  
"Spirits you're _thick,_ " the councilor spat.  "The human I understand, but I thought _you_ would get it at least!"  
"Get _what_ , exactly?  Please, enlighten me…. Spart-"  
"ENOUGH!"  The councilor slammed his empty glass on the table so hard it cracked.  
  
The rest of the table fell totally silent.   
Honestly, they probably would have left except the two angry turians were taking up the exit seats.  Instead, the grown men backed up slightly and just let them air it out. 

"Do you think being on the council is EASY, fledgling?  Do you think I LIKE sitting back and doing nothing while hundreds die??  Commander Shepard sacrificed the entire population of the Destiny's Ascension to save _my_ miserable life, or did you forget while you were out there playing with gunships on Omega?"

"How did you-” Garrus’s anger had a heavy dose of defensiveness and confusion in it now. 

"I know everything.  It's my job."  Decian had regained most of his composure, but still spat venom at the scarred face.

Pallin knew both men fairly well and, while Garrus had grown significantly in the last two years, he still had a lot to learn.  His argument was out of loyalty and - if he had to guess - possible infatuation for his once deceased CO.  However, Spartacus sourced his words from a darker, more grounded place.  Years of torturous marriage and politics had turned Decian into an unrelenting, logic-driven nihilist, while Garrus was probably thinking with his dick more than he even realized. 

Pallin nudged the younger Victus and leaned in to his ear.  "Watch this boy.  THIS is how you argue."  Tarquin gave the Executor a curious glance then quietly slipped a talon into a bowl of Turian "bar nuts" and pulled it into his lap without ever taking his eyes off the fireworks.  Under the table, he held the bowl out towards Palin who stealth fully grabbed a few and popped them into his mouth.

"Then _why_ are you being such an…an- _asshole_!" Garrus was already breaking and everyone knew it.  Decian just needed to finish it. 

"Evidence."  His voice had lowered in volume, but not in intensity.  "Cold, hard, evidence.  The Council works because we're _fair._   Fairness means we make decisions based on facts we can _prove_.  It doesn't matter how much we trust someone, or what our "gut instinct" tells us, or even what our conscience is _screaming_ at us!  If let any of those things sway our decision, the whole system falls apart overnight."

Garrus looked away in disgust.  He understood what the man was saying, but still didn't like it.

"I hear you," he growled changing tactics, "but that doesn't explain why you, and Tavos, and the Dalatrass are CONSTANTLY doubting Shepard.  It's like you made her a Spector just to leave her out to rot."

"ARE YOU SERIOUS VAKARIAN?"  The sudden increase in volume shocked everyone more than a little.  Composure gave way and the previously logical man started pointing and waving with -dare we say- emotion?  "When I saw the Normandy fly in I actually lost my lunch.  You want to know where I was during the meeting?  My office!  Because I was worried that if…."   
He stopped and looked down with clenched fists, realizing he'd already admitted too much.  Damned alcohol.

"Worried about… _what_ Councilor?" Garrus hissed suspiciously.  His muscles tensed up and the whole table could see him slowly bristle as if about to kill a man. 

The Councilor fell back with a frustrated huff and ordered more drinks, mostly for himself. 

In response, Garrus's eyes grew wider and wider in time with the slow way he sat up, straight-backed on the edge of his seat.  The others picked up on his expression, then looked at the councilor, then back at Vakarian almost in sync like curious birds sitting on a phone wire before all figuring it out for themselves.  The difference being, young Tarquin was the only one with balls big enough to break the silence and say it out loud with a gut punching laugh.

"HA!  Great Spirits of my Ancestors, the Turian Councilor has a freaking _CRUSH_ on Commander Shepard!  Oh! Ohfu-! Aahahahaha!"  The boy visibly dissolved with laughter so hard no sounds came out.  All he could do is hold his gut, rest his crest on the table and shake violently.

"Tarquin!  Don't laugh at the Councilor!"

"Sorry…I…oh…. I can't…"

Victus Senior rolled his eyes and put an arm around the boy, pulling his trembling body into his side as if to remove him from the conversation.

"Forgive him."  Adrian mumbled embarrassed.

Other than the one outburst, the rest of the table was as still as a grave while all present looked anything but each other.

Finally, after at least a full minute of solid laughter, Tarquin recovered enough to raise his head a little, but was shocked by what he saw.  
  
"Oh, come on guys!   Am I _really_ the only one who thinks that's _funny??_ " 

  
No one said anything.

  
"What the hell's gotten into everyone?" 

Tarquin, still holding his cramped-up stomach, flicked his head towards every face searching for answers.  Poor thing, he was totally lost.

  
"Son…." Adrian finally said, squeezing the boy slightly, "Have you _seen_ Commander Shepard?"

"Not in person, whyyyyooohfuckme _REALLY_??  You too?  _Dad?_ "

 Adrian didn't look at his son again, just quietly sipped his drink as if to avoid direct admission as well as lying to his boy.

"Aww…come on!  That's _gross!_   She's-"

"What, boy?" Oraka was giving him a sharp look, "She's what, an _alien?_ Is that what you were going to say?"

"Not…exactly." Tarquin suddenly felt like a small child and instinctively curled up like one.  "I was just-um-implying that she isn't, you know, Turian."

Just then, the next round showed up and Oraka grabbed Tarquin's order before he could and chuckled.  
 

"Tarquin Victus, how old are you now?"

 "Twenty-five next month, sir."

"Excellent," the General slid the drink towards him and spread into a wide grin, "You're a grown man, so I'm allowed to speak to you like one.  Assuming your father doesn't object of course."

Adrian rolled his neck and released Tarquin.  "Oraka, you're a dirty old fool.  Please don't corrupt my son."

"Not trying to corrupt," the General added with raised hands.  "Just hoping to prevent him from making my mistakes.  You too Vakarian."

Garrus swung around startled. "Hey…whoa…don't drag me into this.  I have to live on a ship with her!" 

  
Everyone seemed to roll their eyes in unison and Oraka just clapped a wide hand across Garrus's shoulder.  "Yes, we know, don't remind us….you underserving pyjack"

Garrus jumped like he'd sat on a live wire.  He shook his head as if to make a complete sentence despite the alcohol fogged confusion, before looking around the booth at his friends. 

  
"Wait wait wait…You mean… _ALL_ of you??" 

Seeing the same non-committing face spread across all of them, he collapsed back in the booth and held his face in his hands and started to mumble.

"Spirits thank you… I thought I was going crazy."

"HA!" Pallin cracked from across the booth. "Knew it."

"Shut up," Garrus sneered over his hands.

"Hey hey…. Gentlemen, please," Oraka raised his glass to his comrades, happy to be the center of attention.  "As the acting Patriarch of this table, let me offer a bit of insight.  First of all, open your ears and grab a drink." 

As if out of well-bred habit, the entire table of adult male Turians snapped to attention and grabbed their respective glasses, even the dreary councilor.  
 

"Now Tarquin," he said pointing a finger at the man.  "It may not feel like it sometimes, but we live in a very large galaxy.  Staying huddled in a tiny corner of it isn't healthy.  That's how ignorance, intolerance, and hate is born.  Not to mention you're going to miss out on some truly amazing things, and you'll die full of regret."  

Tarquin seemed to consider the General's words, but then caught the real meaning.

  
"You're not talking about space travel, are you?"

"No son, I'm not." 

The youngest man rolled his eyes at the oldest one and huffed.  "Dad's right, you _are_ a dirty old fool."   

Oraka just raised a cracked face plate and lowered his head towards the upstart.  "Tell me, have you even _been_ with a woman?"

"What?  Of course I have!" Tarquin seemed just as insulted as he was disgusted.

"How many."

"General, is this necessary?"  
"Quiet Adrian, you're after Garrus.  How many, son?"

"Um…" He looked up at the ceiling clicking two talons together.  "Eight?  Well, that I can remember."

The Councilor snorted louder than he had to and mumbled something that sounded like "cute".

"Zip it Decian!"  Oraka barked before turning back.  "Now, Tarquin, I assume none of those were serious relationships?"

Tarquin bobbed his head and deflected, Oraka finished his thought for him.

"Ah.  One was, she broke your heart, and the rest were rebounds?"  Tarquin's mandibles twitched nervously and he nodded. 

Oraka excitedly smacked his hand on the table, "Perfect!  Son, you are in every man's dream position!"

"How do you figure that, sir?"

This time, Pallin perked up to answer.  "Are you kidding?  You're young, healthy, spend all your time jumping in between star systems…"

"And your father's almost the Primarch…" Decian droned.

"Oh, please, never say that again," Victus Sr sighed.

"Fine," Oraka reasoned. "We'll just say you're from an impressive clan then."

"……and your face doesn't look like burned, ground meat." Garrus cursed under his breath.

 

Tarquin looked up at his father who just gave him a small shrug as if to agree with his comrades.

"So, what's your point General?"

Oraka gave Tarquin a satisfied smile.  "Don't waste your youth doing the 'right' thing all the time.  Besides, who knows, maybe you'll find out you're really into Hannar!" 

 Tarquin's neck turned dark navy blue and the rest of the table laughed with disgust at Oraka's words. 

"I thought that kind of, um, relationship was against the rules or something…" the young man sputtered.

 "For what it’s worth," Garrus said leaning in to look at Tarquin.  "I heard the same thing."

A hand shot out to point and Garrus.  "Fucking thank you!  Spirits…."

The poor guy was happy to hear someone talking sense, but the older men simultaneously recoiled as if someone had farted. 

"Not when you're in your twenties!"  The councilor was the one speaking up this time.  "Spirits, _please_ promise me you won't get bonded…" Then Decian looked from little V to big V, "And YOU need to promise not to sell him off to the first well-bred pink scale you find!"  The councilor fell back in his seat, visibly depressed.

Adrian tilted his head and the Executor looked over with genuine concern

"Has it…. really gotten that bad Decian?"  The councilor just nodded like his head was too heavy to move.

"Honestly," he said as he killed another drink. "I think I'm lonelier with her than I would be without her.  At least if I was single I could have fun with…" he gestured towards the crowded dance floor, " _literally_ any of those people, I don't much care who at this point!"  He keened softly and starred into his empty glass.  "Now?  It's just forced solitude."

Garrus did something he thought he'd never do, he felt _bad_ for the councilor!  Everyone did.  Turian divorce was rare and…messy.  The man would have to wait until he was ready to retire before attempting it.  Of course, it would be easier if both parties agreed, but his wife would never go quietly just to spite him.  However, she wasn't of high rank herself - just birthed by one - so she was free to sleep around all she wanted.  Decian though, he had a reputation to uphold and constantly under public scrutiny.  Everything mistake he made reflected poorly on the entire Turian race.  The man might be an asshole, but maybe this was a big reason _why_ he was an asshole.

"Speaking of which," Oraka spun his head towards the melancholy man.  "We all agree that your position is…unfortunate, but Shepard?  Is that just a byproduct of your mental state or…?" 

Spartacus crossed his arms and gave Oraka a cold, dead serious look.  "She saved my life.  _Mine_.  Are you kidding me?  Not only did the council cause her nothing but frustration, but she actively hates _ME._ Back me up here Vakarian."

"Sure thing, Sparty McMazeface"

"…Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Ok, that hurt more than I thought it would…Anyway, you see my point."

The group of men nodded, but seemed to want more explanation.  Spartacus rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and tried again.

"I believe the term you're familiar with is: Survivor's Guilt."

Every military mind at the table nodded with understanding, and the Councilor continued.

"Then, how did we repay the woman?  We made her run meaningless errands because Dalatrass was afraid keeping her on the Citadel was hazardous!"

"WHAT?"  Garrus was on the attack again, but Decian defused him.

"Yeah, don't even get me started on that crazy old frog.  She strong-armed us into letting her have her way…. We were about to make a case for Shepard's reassignment to Earth, but we never got the chance."

Garrus shook his head in shock.  "So…you've been fighting _for_ her this whole time?"

The councilor dug his talons into the table with a slap and loomed over Garrus with a face full of sarcastic condescension.  "Who do you think got her reinstated?  The one who sees her as a living insurance fiasco or the one who helped cover for Benezia??"

Garrus sat defeated.  It was easy to hate the man when he stood with the council, but suddenly it was much harder to hate him in person.

Pallin broke the increasingly awkward silence.  "Maybe I missed something, but.... How is she, you know, ALIVE in the first place?"  

The whole table trilled in agreement and the councilor just waved at Garrus. 

"Go on Vakarian, tell them what you told me earlier.  See if _they_ believe you." 

Garrus hung his head and braced himself.  The story sounded insane, but he knew it was the truth.

"Cerberus.... rebuilt her, for lack of a better word, and now she's stuck with them." He cracked a laugh to try to lighten the mood. "Unless someone here has a few billion creds lying around and would like to get her out of debt."

"Ouch.... that's rough." Tarquin mumbled.

"How did they manage _that_?" Adrian asked as disbelieving as he was curious.

 Garrus just shrugged in response. "I have no idea, but her face looks like a quilt so I'm inclined to believe it."

"Strong words coming from you." Pallin quipped.

"I know.  We make a pretty gruesome pair."

"Pair?  HA!  You wish..." Decian chuckled.

"At least she LIKES me, Mazeface."

"Stop it, both of you," Oraka spat, "If anyone at this table has a chance, it's the one who's actually BEEN with a human woman before."

"Really General?" Pallin scoffed, "You still think you have a chance after she bailed you out with the Consort?  Please..."

"And YOU do?" the General hissed back, "I doubt she even knows you exist."

"Is this woman REALLY worth arguing over?" Tarquin quipped with more than a hint of annoyance.

"She is son," Victus Sr. stated plainly with a solemn look on his face, "She's like an army and a supernova all crammed into a tiny package of muscles, flesh, and spite."

"Adrian," the councilor replied almost dazed. "That's.... actually, the best description I've heard yet."

"Yeah," Oraka sighed, "Except you forgot the best part: Her hair." 

The table kind of cooed in a kind of sad, lovesick unison.

Garrus smirked at the group.  "Did you know, that when she's gets bloodied up in battle, her hair looks like it's melting?"

"Oh, now that's just cruel..." Pallin groaned.

"I don't get it, is her hair... blue?"

"No son, it's shocking, fire red.  Brighter than my plates when I was your age."

"You mean, like hers?"

  
Everyone looked where Tarquin was pointing, but sighed in relief when they saw it was someone else.

"No, that's Dr. Michelle," Garrus explained. "Nice girl, has a thing for me -according to Tali- but she's no Shepard.  Close though, at least at a glance."  He winked at the clueless Turian, "Might not be a bad place to start, you know, if you want to 'explore the galaxy' like HE said." A nod Oraka's way solidified the point and everyone clicked in amusement. 

"She's into Turians you say...." Oraka said pensively scratching a mandible.\

Garrus shrugged, "According to our resident quarian, yes.  Apparently, humans give chocolate to people they LIKE, not just as a thank you gift like I assumed."

Oraka and Tarquin both hummed in approval.

"Thanks for putting THAT idea in his head," Victus groaned playfully.  "But what about Shepard?  Is she as...open minded as we seem to be?"

Garrus thought about it for a moment, hating the answer he was about to give, when Oraka interrupted with a wave of his hand.

"It doesn't matter.  Give me one night with that woman and I'll ruin her of human men.

"Assuming she likes human men in the first place..." 

 

Every single person in the booth let out a mortified yelp and flipped their heads towards the new voice with a look of pure terror.  As sure as they drew breath, Commander Shepard herself was leaning over the booth next to theirs, arms crossed under her chin, looking like a cat that just caught six birds with one pounce.

"Hey!  You must be Commander Shepard!  Tarquin Victus, these geezers were just telling me about you."  He stood up and reached over Pallin to shake her hand, cool as a cucumber.  "Gotta say, if half of their crazy yarns are true, you'd still be every bit the legend everyone claims you are."  She smiled at him, and flushed ever so slightly when she shook his hand.  The other men had to stomp on their respective growls of seething hatred.  No matter how long she'd been listening, they'd served her up to the Victus kid on a silver platter and he wasted no time taking advantage of it.

"Hey Commander," Garrus waved with forced innocence.  "Done draining Tim's credit chit?"

"For now," she said as she slid around the edge of the booth and with a small hop sat down sideways on the edge of their table with her back to the councilor, facing Garrus, and giving everyone in the booth a clear view of her picture-perfect ass.  It was intentional, they all knew it, but it didn't stop them from shifting in place a bit to bite back obscene, drunken, guttural noises.  All except Tarquin who sipped his drink with disgusting amounts of chill.  Adrian Victus both hated his son and, at the same time, couldn't have been prouder.

"Lucky for you saps," Shepard said with a sly grin.  "There's just enough for a few more rounds...unless, of course, you're ready to call it a night?" 

There was no denying the challenge hidden in her voice.  The group had already drunk themselves stupid and sobered up twice, but pure Turian testosterone surged in their veins and they sucked it up.

"Sounds great Shep," Tarquin replied all perky, proud, and annoyingly young.  "We've gone around twice already, and I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm always up for a third."

  
Behind her wicked smile, Shepard ran her tongue along the backside of her teeth, hidden by closed lips.  Cool, confident, shortened her name without asking, and already throwing out innuendos?  She liked this young buck.

"That's what I like to hear, what about the rest of you 'geezers'." She air quoted the word to play up the fact that young Tarquin used the human expression first, and they responded proudly... but mostly to cover their bruised egos.

"Cool, I'll open a tab.  Brb." Like a ghost she hopped down and slipped into the crowd.

 

Immediately, ten angry eyes and five mouths of metal teeth turned on Tarquin, snarling.

  
"What?" he chuckled unfazed, "You're the ones that talked her up.  Fair's fair, right?"

"Says the one who laughed at me for having a 'crush' on her." Decian growled.

"Ok, Mr. Married man, I promise not to laugh when you're on the cover of the tabloids."

Point taken.

"She's never even MET you before!" Pallin hissed.

"Good, means she's not holding any grudges."

The C-Sec Executive sat back in a huff.

"An HOUR ago, you thought relations with other species was disgusting and illegal!" Oraka moaned.

"Yeah, thanks for setting me straight General.  I'll be less ignorant and hateful from now on."

Oraka glared down at the table like one of his veins was about to pop.

"Son, I admire your spirit, really I do.  But Shepard is hardly a 'first time' kind of woman."

"She's hardly a 'second trip around the galaxy' kind of woman either, Dad.  Besides... Vakarian, how old is she? "

Garrus looked up for a second.  "Uh, depending on how you count it, 27-29?"

"Uh huh, thought so.  No offense father, but you have children older than her."

Adrian looked away in shame.

"Speaking of which," Garrus spat, "Aren't YOU a little young?"

"Really?  Hello kettle, my name is pot."

"Where did you learn THAT one?"

"The extranet.  Heard of it, Scarface?"

Garrus growled angrily and was about to reply when he heard the familiar click-clack of Shepard's heels and turned around.

 

Spirits.... She WAS a Valkyrie.  She was wearing that dress Liara bought her on the SR1, flat black leather with glossy accents that barely stretched to her mid-thigh and came up into a sheer halter, leaving her back and sides incredibly exposed and shockingly distracting.   Worse yet, it had been custom tailored so it hugged her like a second skin.  Her bright, shining, blood red hair was still tied up, but differently somehow.  Instead of the usual bun or braid, she had twisted it up into a clip on the back of her head and spiked the tips above it up so it looked almost like a fringe.  
Glancing at her feet, Garrus noticed skinny black heels sharp enough to be weapons, but the soles were as red as her hair.

Best of all, she was carrying an enormous tray that almost overflowed with drinks - and food by the smell of it - but she carried it like it weighed nothing.  Except the strain made the muscles in her arms bulge and ripple, only further defining them under her skin.  She'd even taken the time to cover up her scars with the paste and powder human women painted their faces with.

She. Was. Stunning.   
Period.

Human, Turian, Asari, hell Hannar it didn't matter!  Whatever form this woman took, it truly didn't matter to him.  The pressure under his plates was almost unbearable, and it was more than a little embarrassing.  Still, he couldn't help the giant grin than spread over his face.

 

Garrus turned to Tarquin and let out a trail of clicks over a rumble too low for human ears.  He didn't want Shepard to hear it, but he still had to get the feeling off his chest.  Tarquin understood his message immediately and sat up with his very best game face.  Still, only Garrus was prepared for what they saw.

"Thought you guys might be hungry," Shepard cooed suggestively (or at least it sounded that way).  "Don't worry, the Turian bartender told me what to order.  Did I do ok?" 

She set the giant tray down in front of them and all six Turians immediately forgot their previous differences and stared at the spread with ravenous eyes.  
  
"Shepard," Oraka said breathless as he touched her outstretched hand.  "I think I love you." 

She giggled and shook her head, then patted him on the mandible with her free hand.  "On Earth, we say 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach', good to see some things are universal."  She winked and pulled away, much to Garrus's, Tarquin's, Pallin's and Decian's dismay. 

   
While the youngest of them split his time flicking back and forth between the food, Shepard's eyes, and the strangely appealing mesh covering her chest, Garrus and Decian had a front perfect view of her exposed back and toned waist.  Garrus had never been this close to her skin before and was stuck on the smell of her, but Decian's eyes were drinking in all the lines of her muscles and the string of bumps that he assumed were points of her spine.  Mind almost gone, he lifted a finger as if to trace the hypnotic line, but Garrus kicked him under the table and he snapped out of it.  Meanwhile, Pallin was awestruck by the lines of defined muscle under the skin of her arms.  If he squinted a little, he could imagine that Shepard had plates that were under her skin instead of above it.   
  
Luckily, they all recovered by the time she stood up.

  
"Shepard," the councilor offered calmly. "There's no need to open your own tab for us. Please, let the Council pay for this delicious looking meal.  It's the least I can do." 

Shepard cocked a hip and looked at him annoyed.  "Generous, but I'M not buying.  Tim is.  So, you tell me.  Are you allowed to eat anything HE buys?"

Spartacus looked at Garrus trilled a confused "Tim?" to which Garrus made what Shepard assumed was the Turian letter 'C' with his hands and the Councilor nodded.

"Not to lessen your gracious gesture Shepard, but maybe it would be best if I switched the tab over.  Unless you ARE trying to bribe me."

"Depends," Shepard laughed, "Is it working, Sparty?"

The Councilor looked down, a little hurt, and Garrus put his hand on Shepard's arm. 

"Hey, maybe we should be nicer to Spartacus..."

"What?" she turned, genuinely shocked.  "Who are you and what have you done with Garrus Vakarian?"

He smiled and half shrugged. "Don't worry, I've already yelled at him for you.  Couple times, actually.  He even knows his full name now."

Shepard's face turned red.  "You... told him that huh?"

The Councilor bowed his head. "Sparty McMazeface, at your service... specter Spector."

"Ha!" Shepard barked.  "I LIKE that!  Makes it sound I came back from the grave just to haunt you some more!"

"Did you not?"

"Eh, that's only ONE reason.  There are a few more, regardless of whether the Council believes me..."

"Shepard," Garrus said calmly while squeezing her arm.  "Spartacus is on our side.  In fact, you owe him a thank you and, perhaps, an apology."

"Wow... What did I miss?"

"He's the one who got you reinstated, even though Tavos and the Dalatrass were against it."

Shepard's eyes almost popped out of her head, and she slowly turned to face a rather shy looking councilor.  For the first time, she saw him as a regular person stuck in a shitty job instead of the self-important, political asshole she thought he was.

"Aww!  Sparty!"  Without any further warning, Shepard through her arms around the stoic man’s neck and gave him a huge hug.  At first, his dark eyes shot wide and he looked at Garrus confused, but the blue painted man just ignored him and turned towards the food.  Decian took that as a sign of acceptance and gently returned Shepard's hug, secretly smiling. 

"I'm sorry Spartacus," Shepard whispered into the back of his head.  "I forgot you were just a trying to do your job." 

He squeezed a little tighter, bighting back the keening sounds that threatened to burst out if his chest.  If Turians could cry, he would have been.

The Councilor hadn't felt cared for in years.  Since his wife moved away, he'd had a mistress or two, but they only liked him for his money and his ability to get their misdemeanors expunged.  Shepard though... she sounded genuinely sorry.  Grateful even!  She didn't want anything from him, she only wanted to make amends.  He pushed the side of his face into hers.  "Please, Shepard, call me Decian."

"Well then, Decian," Shepard said with a smile. "Thank you, for making me a Spector again and... everything else you've done for me that I'll have to ask Garrus about later."

He laughed and patted her back, trying to at least appear platonic to anyone watching (although he did get a nice chance to feel her spine bones).

"Anytime Shepard, it's the least I can do since you... well... saved my life."

The guilt in his voice was obvious, even to a non-Turian.  Shepard found herself pitying the poor politician.  She was caught a bit off guard, and therefore deflected.

She pulled back a bit and whispered in his ear. "Don't make me regret it."  Then she planted a soft kiss on the side of his head and pulled away, sly smile fully intact.

Decian's heart was pounding, and he hoped he didn't look as stunned as he felt.

Garrus chuckled and grabbed Shepard's arm pulling her against his side - because he could - and raised a brow plate at Spartacus.  "I think you broke him Commander..."

"Well, he DID buy me dinner... and name me Spector." She gave Garrus a joking look.  "I'd hate to come off as rude."

"Oh, NOW you're worried about offending him?  I see how it is."

She playfully punched him in the shoulder and hopped back on the table, but tilting the other way this time.

  
"Shepard," Tarquin asked with a tilt of his head.  "Would you like a chair?"  Everyone pulled their snouts out the feast embarrassed, visibly kicking themselves for being inconsiderate idiots, but Shepard just laughed and waved her hand.

"Pfft... Don't worry about it!  I can't sit still anyway.  Besides, you could drag one of those bar stools over here and I STILL wouldn't be tall enough to look you guys in the eye." 

"No way," Tarquin winced his face with skeptical curiosity.  "You're not THAT bad..."

"Oh honey," She leaned on her arm and rolled her head towards the curious Turian.  "You don't have to play nice.  I know I'm short."

 Tarquin shook his head, "Nope, I refuse to believe it."

"Oh, believe it," Garrus chuckled.  "Even in armor she barely chest high!  It's HILARIOUS!"

Shepard shot him a death glare and he just sat there with that stupid, snide smirk on his face.

"I swear, it's like you WANT me to hit you Vakarian."

"Oooh, Vakarian is it?" Adrian clacked, "You're in trouble now kid!  Enjoy cleaning bathrooms for the next month!"

"Turians do that too?" Shepard said excitedly. "What else do they do for punishment?  Laps? Potato peeling?"  Her eyes had that glimmer in them that looked so adorable to the untrained eye, but Garrus knew better.

"General Victus, please.  Don't give her any ideas."

  
Adrian crossed his arms and shot Pallin and Oraka a loaded look. 

" _Former_ Officer Vakarian makes a valid point, we should be nice.  After all _, he_ has to live on _her_ ship...right gentleman?" 

They clicked and flicked mandibles with excitement and mimicked the General's stance. 

Garrus gulped.

  
"Shepard," Pallin started with a grin.  "Did Garrus ever tell you about how I like to discipline C-Sec rookies?" 

"Nooo," she said with a grin.  "He failed to mention that somehow."

"Well, usually we make them file everyone else's paperwork.  Every time someone needs something delivered, we make the smart mouth rookies do it.  On foot.  No matter how far it has to go..."  He lowered his head poignantly.  "... or how heavy it is."

Shepard cooed with evil intent and a wicked smile. "Oooo... Brutal!  What's the worst one you remember?"

Pallin didn't have to think for long.

"We confiscated an Altus mech from a black-market arms dealer at Customs.  It was completely parted out, so we needed to rebuild it... you know... to be sure we found it all."

Shepard nodded.  "Makes sense but..." She held a red painted nail to her chin.  "Where do rebuild an Altus Mech in Customs?"

"HA!" Pallin barked before lowering his gaze at her.  "You don't.  That's done in the basement of the C-Sec Academy."

Shepard gasped, "Holy shit... You made them carry an Altus Mech, piece by piece, from Customs to the Basement ON FOOT!  That must have taken..."

"18 hours..." Garrus groaned, "18 hours and 43 minutes.  By myself."

Shepard literally covered her mouth to keep from shrieking in amusement, twisting back and forth between Pallin and Garrus with each of her next words.   
"No. Freaking. Way.  HA!  That's AMAZING!!"

"I thought it was clever." Pallin said with a smirk as he sipped his drink.

"I can do you one better," Oraka said while swallowing.  "During the 314 -" he cut himself off abruptly and shut his eyes silently cursing. 

Every man at the table looked at him like he was the biggest idiot that ever lived, while also being completely mortified.  Shepard's face fell and she let the silence drag on as long as she could stand.  Then their faces became too much to bare and she started to tremble, then sputter, then finally burst with laughter until she was wiping away tears.  
 

"Oh... Oh my GOD!  Your face!  It's fucking PRICELESS!!"  She fell back so far she had to grab the edge of the table to keep from falling, much to her own embarrassment.  She fanned her face to calm down.

"Oooohhh... Heavens.  Thanks Oraka, I haven't laughed that hard in a _looong_ time!"  She took a deep breath and let it out slow.  "Woooo...That was funny... "

 

The still nervous turians looked at each other confused, even Garrus looked unsure.  He had known Shepard for a while now but never really talked about the war between his people and hers.  For all he knew, she could have lost family or even her parents in the conflict.  It was simply safer not to ask.  However, that drunk, stupid, old fart just _had_ to open his big mouth and bring up the _ONE_ topic humans and turians weren't supposed to talk about.

"Come on guys, relax!  I'm messing with you!"  Shepard hit them all with that dazzling smile of hers and they all let out their collectively held breath but still didn't speak. 

"Look, I _know_ what really happened.  You guys were trying to give us a speeding ticket and we freaked out because," she flicked her eyes up and waved open palms to drive home the sarcasm.  "Oh shit!  We're not alone in the universe!  Freak out immediately!"  Her arms dropped with a smack and she hit them with the purest look of apathy.  "Whatever.  Personally, I don't give a shit."

"You...you don't?" Oraka sputtered with a glimmer of hope in his voice.

"Hell no!" Shepard waved an arm all the way in the air.  "I'm just glad the feeling's mutual because I meant what I said earlier."   She winked at the bunch.  "I'm really not into human men." 

With that, Shepard reached across the table, grabbed Oraka's drink out of his hand and smelled it. "Hmm... not bad.  What's it called?"

"Silverback?" He trilled confused.  "It's from an old colony called - Hey, you really shouldn't drink that!"

  
While he was talking, Shepard had started downing the liquid with an open throat.  When he started warning her, she held up a single finger to and kept it there until she finished.

"Ahhh.... 'Hey-you-really-shouldn't-drink-that'?  Huh, never heard of that colony before."  She pointed a thumb towards Pallin.  "Is that where he's from?"

Even the councilor chuckled at that one.  Judging by their face paint alone, the group looked like a family reunion.  The only ones who were even slightly different were Garrus and Pallin.

"Won't that make you sick?" Tarquin asked, ever curious.

Shepard waved him off.  "Nah, that's just a misunderstanding.  I won't bore you with the science, but in short: Humans CAN eat dextro food, we just don't gain any nutritional value... and it just tastes weird."  Her fingers wiggled and hovered over what was left on the tray.  "The only catch is...I just can't eat anything with a lot of metal in it.  Especially lead.  That kills us."

Finally, her long, glossy nails, shaped and painted like drops of blood, delicately plucked a single pink cube off the tray and pinched it.  It gave slightly in her fingers, like an extra dense, matte gelatin.

  
"What's this called?" she asked the table curiously.

"Elatus," Adrian replied.  "It is a popular bar food because the fruit it is made from has a natural stimulant."

She perked up at that.  "Really?? Snacks laced with uppers?  Sign me up!"

Shepard popped the cube in between her bright red lips and sucked it into her mouth.  It dissolved immediately and her eyes shot wide with surprise right before her pupils constricted into tiny pin pricks, making her eyes look like perfect silver-blue disks.

"Whoa..." is all she managed to say as the "natural stimulant" of the "fruit" hit her brain like an invisible bag of cocaine forcibly shoved up both nostrils.  Suddenly, she REALLY liked Turian food. 

"Feeling good yet?" Tarquin chirped while trying not to laugh.  He had the best view of her face so he already knew how hard the Elatus had hit her tiny body.    
  
Shepard, still unable to blink or focus managed to force a slow nod that was more like a dazed head bob.

  
"Wow, I heard you had a triad Shepard," Pallin said with a hardy laugh.  "But now I know you do!"

"Of course, she went for the Elatus first," Spartacus sighed shaking his head.  "Of course she did.... " 

"We probably should have warned her." Garrus groaned out the side of his mouth.

Adrian shrugged, "I told her exactly what it was, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but..." Garrus sounded torn but also thoroughly amused.  "Humans don't have anything like that.  Coffee is the strongest thing they have."

"Eww, that bitter brown stuff the officers drink?" Pallin growled.

Garrus nodded.  "It'll keep you awake, but that's about it."

"Well why didn't YOU warn her then?" Adrian clacked.

"I thought she'd be fine!"  He sputtered defensively, raising two open hands to shoulder height.  "She drinks that coffee stuff by the pot full, and Chakwas gives her stims all the time!  I thought...."

  
Garrus might have kept talking but all Shepard could hear was the hum of her own heart.

 

"Hey, you still with us woman?"

 

 The voice sounded really far away.

 

 Then, someone touched her shoulder.

 

 

  _*Click*_

 

 

A wave of tiny biotic sparks started at her implant and sparkled all the way down to her body before shooting out her fingers and toes. She felt the table vibrate as everyone jumped back, clacking and chirping.  One of them yelped and the rest got louder.  They were laughing, but her translator had clearly fried because they started speaking but she didn't hear their normal the voices anymore. 

Just... noises.  Really, really enticing, layered, echoing, sexy as hell noises.

NOW, it's a party.

"WOOO!"  Shepard yelled as she threw her hands in the air.  "What else have you been hiding from me??"  They all seemed to die in laughter, but in slow motion.  At least to her.

Tarquin gave the rest of the table a look and pushed a covered metal pot towards her and said something coolly with layers and layers of clicks, trills, and hums.

  
Shepard didn't know what he said, but she sure liked the way he said it.

  
A perfectly drawn, red brow rose at him and Shepard slowly lifted the lid off the pot.  Inside, she didn't know what she was looking at, but it was definitely moving. 

Tarquin sat back, crossed his arms, and snapped his jaws at her.  It was clearly a dare.  She looked around at the rest of them, they were stone faced... even Garrus.  If she knew anything about Turians, she knew there was money on the line.

She put the lid back on, picked up the small pot and sat up, letting it rest in her lap.  It took all her effort to sit still and not run laps around the wards, but she managed somehow.  Slowly, she took the lid off the pot again and looked around for any sign of warning, but got nothing but statuesque faces and one overly smug one.

Gingerly, (in an attempt to keep her hand steady mostly) she reached in and bravely grabbed whatever was inside.  Has her fist emerged from the pot, she was greeted by the grizzly sight of an almost eight-inch-long, silver, centipede type creature.  It was slightly thicker than her finger, rubbery, and had hundreds of long, writhing legs making waves down its body.  Honestly, she wanted to scream and throw it at Tarquin's face, but she hadn't backed down from a challenge yet and wasn't about to start now. 

_"I cheated death,"_ she thought to herself, _"I will NOT be bested by a BUG."_

Holding it by its middle between her finger and thumb, she gave the creature a small squeeze and looked it over, mostly checking for pincers, teeth, or stingers, but found none.  Just legs.

She gave the booth one last glance out of the corner of her eye.  Oraka shook ever so slightly as if holding back a laugh.  None of them were breathing, only waiting.

Shepard released the creature and let it crawl and twist over her hands, and when it had wound itself through the fingers of her right hand, she held its head with a slight pinch and scowled.

With a flick of eyes back to Tarquin, quick as lightning Shepard bit the creature's head off while showing off as much teeth as she could.  She swallowed it, barely chewing, but the joke was on them.  It tasted like bacon.

 

Without another moment’s hesitation, she licked a single drop of green blood off her hand and slurped the dead bug's body into her mouth all at once.  It, like the cube, was oddly soft and two chews later it was down her throat.  She turned and looked a very surprised, but impressed Tarquin dead in the eye and licked her lips.

"Mmm... Delicious."

The whole table erupted with alien noises.  Tarquin's jaw fell open speechless.  Adrian clapped an arm over his son's shoulders and rocked him slightly, roaring with laughter.  Pallin held his head in his hands.  Oraka beat the table while holding his chest, obviously struggling to breathe.  Spartacus trilled and grinned, raising his glass towards Shepard.  Garrus stomped the ground then rubbed a hand across Shepard's exposed back.  He made a deep, echoed, growl like noise and she looked back at him.  He was beaming.  

She plucked the translator out of her ear and rebooted it, which only made them laugh louder, and when she put it back in she learned what all the fuss was about.

"Oh Shepard" Garrus sighed while giving her back a squeeze.  "You make me so damn proud." 

"Do I now?" she said grinning.  "So... what did you win?"

He cocked his head half surprised. "Picked up on that huh?"

She winked. "I know a bet when I see one."

"Fair enough, I guess I owe you 500 creds."

"You bet a 1000 creds I would eat that thing?"

Garrus shook his head.  "Oh no, Spartacus bet that, and the fools over there took him up on it.  I bet him that you'd eat it whole."

"So, THAT'S why you look so happy!" she said turning to the Councilor.

The once stoic politician clicked his mandibles at her and spoke low over his drink.  "Careful Commander.  Keep this up and I might start liking you."

"Oh now, THAT'S a bit harsh..." she teased with a wink.

He gave her the Turian equivalent of a shrug as he swallowed.  "Shall I order you another round to wash it down with?"

"If you're offering," she looked down at the now empty pot and held it up to him.  "Can you get us some more of these too?  We seem to be out."

The people behind her started laughing again, but the councilor just gave her a strange, almost predatory look before looking at his omnitool to place the order.

  
"I still can't believe it, " Tarquin finally breathed.  "I thought humans wouldn't even LOOK at insects, much less EAT them!" 

Shepard shrugged it off.  "Meh, I'll try anything twice."

The young man's fringed skull snapped sideways with a chirp.  "I thought it was 'I'll try anything once'?"

Shepard shook her head.  "That's what most people say, but I'll try anything twice because the first time might have been a fluke."

"And THAT'S why she's a living legend, son." Adrian said with a nudge of his elbow.

"Yeah..." Tarquin breathed out, still stunned. "I think I get it now."

Shepard didn't know what he meant, but she grabbed the last remaining drink on the table and sipped it while scanning the dance floor.  The Elatus was still surging in her body and she suddenly made up her mind that she wasn't going home alone tonight.  Sadly, the group of a Turians behind her didn't have a single testicle between them, so it was time to go hunting.  
 

"Oh no," Garrus groaned.  "You're not going to start dancing, are you?" 

"No, _Mom_ , I won't embarrass you in front of your friends.  Just...you know, scouting."

Garrus pinched his brow.  "Spirits, I honestly don't know which is worse."

Oraka heard their conversation and perked up.

"That's right Shepard, you've been leaving us hanging all night!"

She glanced back at him and raised questioning brow.  "How so?"

Oraka, Pallin, the councilor, and clan Victus straightened up a little and Oraka continued. 

"You've mentioned twice that you're not into human men..."

She narrowed her eyes at him and mumbled through the now empty glass.  "Yes...Your point being...?"

"So, it begs the question:  Who _does_ the great Commander Shepard prefer to spend her nights with?"

Garrus opened his mouth to speak but Shepard kicked him in the knee with her heel.

"No no no, that's cheating.  Let them guess!  Besides," she spun around and brought her sly smirk to his face.  "Even YOU don't know the real answer."

Garrus's head snapped back stunned.  He had seen Shepard in clubs for years.  He'd seen her court partners and, unfortunately, HEARD her mating a few times before.  He KNEW the answer to this question, and now she was telling him he was wrong?

"Shepard, we've been stuck on the same ship for a while now.  I KNOW what and who you do on shore leave...."

"Maybe," she teased, "but I still have a few secrets left." 

As if on cue, the drinks and snacks showed up.  Shepard took her tall Scotch and started to sip, looked at it, and got an idea.  
 

"Ok boys, let's play a game." 

Even though the fog of mixed substances in her brain, she still nailed her Commander voice.

"You've got till this cup is empty to guess what I like.  After that, we drop it and I'll never speak of it again.  Work together, because you only get ONE chance.   Except you Garrus, you're out.   Sound fair?"

They nodded and trilled in agreement.

"Oh, and it's a three-part answer so set, ready..."  She took a swing of her drink.  "Go"

"Hey!  No fair!" Tarquin whined.

"My game, my rules."  She took another small sip.  "Better hurry."

It was amusing as hell to watch their wheels start spinning, but after a beat or two she got bored, hopped off the table, and started watching the dancing crowd again.  Over her shoulder she heard hushed mumbles as they started to debate.

"It's got to be asari, right?  Everyone likes them!"

"No Oraka, that's just you."

"But if it's not human men, then what else could it be?"

"I don't know... Salarians maybe?"

"Nah, they lay eggs kid.  There's no way."

"Alright, what about Batarians?  They kinda look like humans, right?"

"Pfft...Are you kidding? The Hegemony hates humanity WAY more than we ever did.  There's no way."

  
"Three parts huh Shepard?"

The raised, Turian sized booth was so high Shepard's shoulders were even with the table top and she had to look up at Garrus. 

"Hey, I said you were out.  Remember?"

"Yeah but..." He paused as if trying to find the right words.  "I only know of two."

"I know you do," she said coolly while sipping her scotch.  It was already half gone.

"So, the third one is a fringe case then...?"

"Not really, just tough to find."

"Like, literally rare or?"

"No, not Prothean rare, just...I don't know.  Less receptive I guess."

"Hmmm...."

"Hey, I said no cheating!"

"I know, I know.  I'm just thinking.  That's all."

  
When Garrus turned back to his comrades, Shepard rolled her eyes and reached up to grab a fresh bug out of the pot.  
She wasn't kidding.  They really did taste like bacon.

  
"Ha!  Did she just grab another one?"

"Well, she _did_ order them."

"Shut up…  I'm not paying you again."

"Shame."

"So, what do you think?  Krogan?"

"Impossible.  I think, yes, probably physically impossible.  She'd be crushed.  What do you think Oraka?"

"HA!  Yeah, if not crushed than ripped in half.  There's no way it fits!  I barely fit!"

"That's.... more than I needed to know."

"Well, if the General here can't fit, none of us can either."

"Hey!  Watch your mouth, fledgling!"

"With all due respect sir, I'm just stating facts."

"Thank the ghosts of your ancestors you're not in my platoon Victus."

"Oh relax, old timer.  You're only making it worse for yourself."

Shepard snorted a single chuckle.  "Somethings are universal..."

She scanned the bar for any signs of life.  Sure, there were some decent people here, but her mind kept drifting back to three... all of which were behind her.  She sighed with disappointment, but her ears pricked up when she heard them getting warmer.

"Wait…  Gentleman, I think we've made a massive oversight."

"What do you mean Pallin?"

"Humans don't have clans or breeding pacts, right?"

"I…actually don't know.  Maybe we can ask?  Hey Shepard, can we ask a generic human question?"

She turned around and peered over at them. "Maybe?  What is it?"

Adrian looked at her curiously. "Do humans have clans or breeding pacts?"

Shepard thought for a second.  "No, we bond with whoever we want to.  That's why the divorce rate is over 50%, assuming we marry or 'bond' at all."

They all looked shocked.  
 

"Fifty percent?" Garrus asked almost breathless.  "Really?" 

"Oh yeah.  I don't even know why we bother anymore.  Well, I _do_ but…" She gazed unfocused into her swirling drink.  "Basically, it boils down to a fancy party, next of kin laws, and a minimal tax break.  We marry, divorce, and remarry all the time.  Many of the younger generations just skip the whole thing entirely."

"So, humans have no duty to...reproduce or anything?"  Pallin asked cautiously.

She shook her head, "Not like you do.  For instance, if Decian were human he'd be a free bird right now.  Worst case scenario, his ex would get half of his assets and life would go on."

"Hmmm," the man hummed pensively. "Is it too late to switch sides?"

"You're the Turian Councilor!" Oraka barked.

"So...." he continued in a drunk drone.  "Is that a no or a maybe?"

She left them to it and continued people watching.

 

"Been meaning to ask," Garrus purred over her shoulder.  "Are those new shoes?" 

"Yes," she said beaming with a twist of her feet.  "Like them?"

"I do," he hummed.  "They suit you.  The red soles are quite intriguing.  Is that, significant?"

Shepard lit up with a trickster's grin and gave him a slow, "Oh yeah."

He cooed a low chirp in response.  "What does it mean?"

Shepard wiggled both eye brows.  "It means they were VERY expensive!"

"How much?"

"8000 creds," she stated flatly.

Garrus reeled in his seat.  "For SHOES??  Do they have mass effect fields or something?"

"Nope," she teased playfully proud.  "They just look sexy.  Women go nuts for them." 

Shepard's eyes shot wide and clapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late.

"AhHA!  I TOLD you!" Pallin was proud of something.  She already knew what.

The older Victus hummed in thought.  "Hmmm, well that.... changes things."

"I TOLD you it had to be Asari!  That was, quite literally, the first thing I said!"

"Ok, but that still leaves us with two..."

"Does it?"

"Oh…crap."

"Yeah, I know.  But it MUST be, right?"

"I don't WANT to believe it, but it's the best we have."

 

"They're getting close Shepard," Garrus rumbled by her ear, so she downed the rest of her glass and hopped back on the table.

   
"Alright, times up.  Let's hear your arguments first."

"Ok," Tarquin replied taking control of the situation.  "We ruled out Salarians first, because they lay eggs." 

Shepard nodded. "Good start, what's next?"

"Oraka confirmed that a Krogan would kill you so we ruled them out too."

"Sad but true.  Had to break a lot of hearts on Tuchanka last time I was there..."

"Wait," Pallin interrupted.  "You got Krogan breeding requests?"

Shepard tried very hard to not to bat her eyelashes in pride, but it didn't work very well.   
"Quite a few actually.  I have a spam folder for them and everything.  See?"  She pulled out her omnitool towards the table and scrolled through dozens of unread Krogan requests.

"Wow....that's.... strangely impressive Shepard."  Decian said through heavy blinking.

"Not when one of them is from Wrex…" Garrus growled in a completely unamused huff, but Shepard ignored him.

"I know!  I go through them whenever I need a good laugh."  This was, by far, the most fun she'd had in a long time.  "What's next fellas?"

"Well," Tarquin continued. "We ruled out Elcor and Vorcha for similar reasons, Quarians and Volus because of the suits, and then Batarians because Dad said they hate humans, quote, 'more than we ever did', end quote."

Adrian hid behind his drink and snarled.  "Thank you for that, Tarquin."

He nudged his father with a teasing mandible flick, " Someone has to keep you on your toes."

"No, it's ok," Shepard dismissed casually.  "General Victus makes a valid point.  More specifically, Batarians hate ME."  She twisted her mouth to the side in mock thought.  "Probably because of the Blitz." 

They all hummed as if they had completely forgotten about that little fact.

"Ok, so we're good so far…"  Tarquin stated with growing excitement before looking back up at her.  "Oh, and we ruled out Drell because none of us have ever seen one." 

"I have." Shepard chirped, "There's one on my ship right now!"

Oraka looked shocked.  "Seriously?"

Shepard beamed and elbowed her crewmate.  "Yep!  Garrus LOVES the guy.  Dontcha?"

Garrus growled even lower and showed a little too much teeth at no one in particular, but Shepard just continued smiling and turned back to the rest of the booth.

"He's an assassin.  Wears a lot of leather and reads poetry, but he's also dying of some terminal disease so…"  She shook her head in a way that made her spiked up hair ripple like a flickering fire.  "It doesn't matter.  _Do_ go on."

That's when Pallin took over.

"Since we were quickly running out of species, I started the question about breeding packs." 

"Yeah," she mused with confusion, "What was THAT about?"

Pallin took his usual head of C-Sec stance but the way his mandibles wiggled like they couldn't find a comfortable place on his face gave away his underlying nervousness.

"Well, since your people don't seem to put much emphasis on planned offspring, I started to wonder if, maybe, we were... um... looking at this the wrong way."

Shepard nodded her approval.  "Smart move Executor.  Seems they didn't make you head of C-Sec for nothing."

"Well, he can't take ALL the credit," Adrian groaned.  "You're comment about buying 5000 cred shoes to attract women sealed it."

Shepard's hand instinctively tried to smooth back her already tied hair.  "Yeah... That was my bad.  But you have to admit..." She pulled the heels off and held the pointy black and red shoes with her fingers and smirked mischievously.  "They do look amazing."

"How do you fit your feet in there?" Tarquin inquired with tilted head.  "There's only one toe..."

She narrowed her eyes at him in condescending disbelief.  "Have you not SEEN human feet Tarquin?"

He shook his head in a firm "no" and Shepard pulled her thighs under her (to prevent any looks up her dress), spun around a bit, then extended one foot towards the curious turian and wiggled her toes.  Immediately, the young man brought his hands up as if to shield himself from something grotesque and turned away.

"AH!  Ok, no, that's enough.  Put the shoes back on please.  Those are much nicer.  Thank you." 

Shepard couldn't help but laugh, so did Oraka.

"Oh don't worry Tarquin.  A lot of humans hate our feet too."  She slipped on the last heel and admired her new purchase.  "We LOVE shoes, but hate feet."

"Yeah," Tarquin groaned, "I can see why but…" He gave her a slightly curious look out of the side of a still squinted eye. "Why do you have so many toes??"

"You're getting us sidetracked Son," Adrian growled, visibly tired.  "Let's finish this."

  
"To sum up," the councilor said bluntly, "We finally narrowed it down to Asari and human women for sure, but we're still undecided for the third." 

"I still vote Hannar," Pallin interjected. "Shortly before she became the Normandy's Captain, Shepard talked a crazy one out of getting arrested for spreading evangelism without a permit.  One of my best officers had been trying to do that all day, but she fixed it in five minutes."

"See, that's where we disagree," Adrian replied.  "I think it HAS to be Turian women.  She already likes females from two other species, and our women are as fiery and spiteful as she is!"  He looked at the Commander with a smooth raise of his glass.  "And I do mean that as a compliment Shepard."

"Interesting," she purred while stroking her chin.  "I'd love to meet one someday."

They ALL gawked at her before shouting various versions of, "You've never met a female Turian" at almost full volume.

   
She shrugged fully, with both hands.  "Sorry to disappoint you gentlemen, but no, I haven't.  Unfortunately, I only come in contact with C-Sec officers and military types like yourselves." 

Oraka was gobsmacked.  "There is a Drell on your ship, but you have never even _met_ one of our women?"

"Ok, clearly we need to hire more women at C-Sec." Pallin said while typing on his omnitool, "I had NO IDEA it was this bad..."

  
Garrus gently tapped her arm.  "You've met my sister Sol though, haven't you Shepard?"

She pulled her lips into an apologetic line and shook her head from side to side.  "I heard her voice over the com once, but, no, I haven't physically met the woman."

Garrus slumped in dismay, "I am the worst brother ever...."

   
Decian stretched his neck and started looking over the bar, then pointed his nose at someone.  "There's a couple of them, right over there."  He scanned for another second and pointed again.  "A few more on the dance floor as well." 

Shepard looked casually in the directions he had referenced and tilted her head a bit

"Huh, they don't have the head fringe...and their eyes are different."

"Yes, females’ eyes are…" Spartacus stopped dead in his tracks then snapped up in shock. "Wait, TELL me you've at least SEEN one before now, right Shepard?"

The Councilors eyes looked like they were pleading, but Shepard just shook her head.

"Maybe in passing, but I guess I never really noticed."

"This is unbelievable...." Oraka groaned.

  
Garrus tapped her arm again, but when she looked at him he seemed...sad.

"In all your days with the Alliance, or during the Blitz, or any time before that… You really _never_ came across a female Turian?"

"Sorry, but no."

"Never been to Palavan?"

"No."

"A Turian colony even?"

"Still no." 

His head fell and she felt like she hurt him somehow.  Looking around, they all looked a little heartbroken so she extended her arms in a delicate but sincere apology.

"Hey guys, I'm sorry.  Truly I am.  It wasn't intentional!  I guess your women are just…extra stealthy or something." 

Adrian huffed a laugh.  "My wife used to be Special Ops."

"My sister is a scout," Garrus replied.

"I haven't seen my wife in over a year," Decian sighed.

"My ex-girlfriend disappeared without a trace,” Tarquin said with a pained shrug.

"Now that I think about it…" Oraka added with a chuckle, "Turian women have been evading me too as of late." 

"Alright Shepard," Pallin said looking up from his messages.  "Maybe you do have a point.  In hindsight, if you aren't looking for them, Turian women are easy to miss."

Oraka snorted.  "... even if they are twice your size."

Shepard groaned in his direction.  "Everyone's twice my size Oraka.  I'm used to it."

  
"Right," the senior general announced as he addressed the group.  "So, we're going with Asari, human women, and Hannar then?"

"Yeah I guess."

"Seems that way."

"Mmhmm"

"Unless you've got something better General Victus."

"I do not."

"Ok then," Oraka announced with conviction as he turned to the Commander.  "Our answer is Asari, human women, and Hannar.  Is that correct?"  
 

Shepard took a deep breath before sighing loudly and shaking your head in disappointment. 

  
"Damn... you were SO CLOSE too!  But, I'm afraid two out of three isn't good enough." 

  
She snapped back to her normal, perky, teasing self, grabbed the two remaining Elatus cubes, and jumped off the table with an energetic click of stiletto heels against floor.  "Sorry, better luck next time."

She dipped her head and gave them all a deep, respectful bow.

"Thank you all for the lovely evening, especially you Decian."  She gave him his own head nod.  "Send the Citadel credit account managers my thanks as well."

 He nodded back.  "The pleasure is mine Shepard.  As I said, it is the least I could do to repay you for saving the lives of myself and fellow councilors."

With a final nod towards the booth, Shepard smiled at her new friends.  "I hope we have a chance to do this again.  This was a lot of fun."

She turned to prance away, but Tarquin called out.

  
"You're just going to leave us hanging?  Come on Commander!  Tell us which one we missed!"

   
Shepard sighed loudly, shook her head, turned back around, and hopped her hips back up on the table.  Her expression had lost all former playfulness, instead it was a sobering mix of disappointment, condescension, and deep annoyance.  
  
"You know what I learned tonight?" she growled.  Taking a quick look around, she grabbed another worm from the pot, held it in her fist like a strip of beef jerky, and jumped back down.  "The six of you are denser than dark matter."

 

With that, she bit the head off her bug and disappeared.

 

 

 

 

"I have I feeling," Pallin said slowly after several moments of stunned silence. "I was wrong about the Hannar."

Tarquin slammed his hands on the table and tilted his head fully sideways.

"Really??  Do you think so??  Screw this..."

Before anyone could stop him, Tarquin dipped under the table, swung through it, and landed on the floor outside the booth.  A split second later, he had also disappeared into the crowd.

 

The night had been a long one.  Once their lively company had left, everyone at the table came to the unfortunate realization that they were officially too tired and drunk to fight Tarquin and gave up.

Everyone that is, except Garrus. 

Some primal instinct flash boiled his blood into steam and the sides of his vision started to blur and darken like a tunnel.

A soft hand touched his back, "Vakarian, are you alright?"  
 

Garrus didn’t reply.  Instead, he downed his nearly full drink in one gulp, crushed the glass in his fist, and stormed off in Tarquin's last known direction.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game is afoot! Which turian will make it to Shepard first?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Recommended Listening:**  
>  Shepard - "Make a Move" by Icon for Hire...at first. Later it was "Scared To Be Loney" Martin Garrix, Dua Lipa  
> Tarquin - "Don't Look Down" by Martin Garrix, Usher; "Tear you Apart" by She Wants Revenge  
> Garrus - Didn't listen to music during this, but his mood was very "Soone" by Rammstein  
>   
> 

Garrus didn't know why he was so angry…except he did. 

Asari he was okay with, human women he was okay with, heck even turian women and human men he could even make peace with, but this?  This was personal.  Another, young, Turian man was actively pursuing Shepard and was (at least in Garrus's mind) trying to claim her for himself. 

That thought is what finally broke him.  Another turian's talons on her skin.  Another set of teeth sinking into her neck.  Another man's...

He shook the explicit thoughts from his head.  Right now, he needed to focus.

It had to be Tarquin Victus too, of all people.  His father was likely to be Primarch one day, making Tarquin's claim over three times more powerful than his own.  Also, Garrus knew of the man's reputation.  He had outright lied earlier. 

_"Eight?"_ Garrus thought to himself.   _"More like eighty…"_  

Garrus growled at the thought.  He had his share of dates in the past, but none since…  A long time.

_"I don't stand a chance.  Except…"_  

He shook the thought from his head.  No, Shepard was HIS.  She had always been his.  He was the one who joined her suicide mission, not Tarquin.  She cried on _his_ shoulder when Liara broke her heart.  He knew her better than _anyone_ , but... she did seem smitten, you know, in hindsight. 

Garrus shook his head once more, and started looking up.  Tarquin was a sabotage expert (heh, fitting) and was on track to be black ops one day, but even as a kid Garrus remembered him being a climbing little pyjack.   Tarquin used to run across wires and jump between buildings for fun, which Garrus never really understood, but now he regretted not learning.  Tarquin could move much faster than he could, but Garrus had one advantage: Garrus KNEW Shepard.

 

\------

 

Tarquin was pissed.  He trusted the old men and they tricked him!  He _had_ her, right off the bat too.  If it had just been the two of them, he'd be in her bed right now.  Instead, he was trying to track a tiny Spector, at night, on the Citadel.  With any luck, she was still wearing those loud, pointed, expensive shoes.

 

\------

 

Shepard had stripped off her heels the first second she could.  Her comment would only buy her a second or two before at least one of them would try to track her down.  Hopefully.

Except she was shockingly nervous.  Any one of those dumb birds could track her on the Citadel, possibly by smell alone, but this was more than that.  She _wanted_ them to hunt her.  That, at very least, prevented her from dealing out rejection to the remaining five.  If they wanted to play that way.

Shepard knew exactly what she was doing.  She'd been planning this little farce for the last day and a half and wasn't about to chicken out now.  She wanted to try Turian, badly, and didn't much care what form it took.

"Come on boys, come and find me."

 

\------

 

"EDI"  
"Yes Garrus?"  
"Has the Commander returned to the ship yet?"  
"No, I am unable to pinpoint her location, but my readings show she has a slightly accelerated heartbeat.  Should I send out a search team?"  
"No thanks.  She's fine, just a little drunk, but let me know if anything changes."  
"Of course. Logging -"

 Garrus cut the com link. 

Ok, if she's not on the ship, where would she go?  Another bar?  Maybe, she still had two elatus cubes with her, but knowing her she was saving them.

  
"Probably going to hide them somewhere..." he mumbled to himself.  
  
He pulled up the tracker on his visor, but even that couldn't find her location.  Damn, she disabled it on purpose.  
  
"She's either trying to hide or...." the low rumble in his chest cut off the end of his sentence.  
_"...or wants to be hunted."_

He scanned a nearby terminal and worked some old C-Sec magic on his omnitool.  With a couple of clicks, he saw all her purchases for the day.

"Spirits!  Over a million credits at Cipritene Armory?  What did she- AhHA!"   
  
He cracked a grin on his face when he saw that she had purchased a physical chit card.  People only used those if they wanted to buy things off the record.  She had put about a thousand credits on it.  Not enough to leave the station but more than enough for...

  
".... a really nice hotel room.  Thanks Shepard, I'm flattered."

 

\------ 

 

Tarquin's initial search had yielded nothing, but he did spot Garrus leaving the bar like a man on a mission.

  
"Hmmm... So, it's like that, huh Vakarian?  Alright.  Competition makes everything more fun."

  
He followed the blue-faced turian for a bit, watching the former detective do his research for him.  He turned on his military grade earpiece and pulled out his personal recon visor.  The green HUD within the wide display locked onto Garrus with ease, even though Tarquin was crouched on a balcony several stories above him.  In no time, the earpiece synced with the visor and he heard Garrus's voice amplified in his ear, as well as a robotic one he called "Edi".

In just over a minute of eavesdropping, Tarquin shut off the lens and swung between the rails of the balcony, landing with a silent roll on a catwalk beneath him, and ran off.  He'd heard all he needed to hear:  Shepard was hiding, not in her ship, and she had a private credit chit with enough for a hotel.  However, there was a bit of information on the ex-cop's screen Tarquin hoped Garrus had missed. 

Tarquin pressed a hand on the divider in front of him and swung legs over it without breaking stride.  Two steps later some metal support wires were in his way, but easily slid under them.  Hopping back to his feet by pushing his back against the floor.  Reaching the end of the catwalk, he glanced around, made a split-second decision, and vaulted over the edge to land of the roof of a strip of stores.

  
He had missed this.  As a kid, the skyline of the wards was like his own personal playground.  His father was always busy with military business, especially as they tried to patch things up with the humans, so he was always stuck with his cranky asari matriarch nanny.  It didn't take long before he learned how to ditch her.  Running and sneaking never worked, she's always pull him back and lock his hand in a stasis field with hers, but he could do something she couldn't.  
  
Climb.

 

One day, she got distracted just long enough for him to break away, but not before she locked his legs.  He should have been pissed, but instead Tarquin saw it as a challenge.  Grabbing a nearby ladder, he pulled himself up to the roof by his arms then managed to grab a rusting metal pole and zipped over the Presidium lake along a wire.  It felt like flying.  After that, she stopped fighting and just let him run.  

In hindsight, that's probably how he got recommended for black ops.

Finally, Tarquin found the shop he was looking for.  Seeing an opportunity to catch his breath, he fell into a squat and patched into the store's POS system from his omnitool.  With a click, he pasted in a search for a chit number he copied off Garrus's search results and smiled at the screen.

 

"Heh....clever girl."

 

\------

 

"Hello ma’am, would you like to stay with us."  
"Yes please, one night in the nicest room you have."  
"Absolutely, our Matriarch Suite is available, would you to experience it?"  
*snort* "Sounds lovely.  Thank you."  
"And what's the name on reservation?"  
"..... Two names please.  Allison Gunn and…. Ruby Red."  
"Yes ma’am.  Enjoy your stay Miss."  
"Appreciated.  Good night."  
"Good night."

 

\------

 

Garrus was getting increasingly frustrated.  So far, there was no record of any Shepard or Gunn in any of the Presidium hotels.  That only left the wards, but she could get the nicest room there and still have credits left over.  It didn't make sense...

 He pinched his brow.  The alcohol was starting to take its toll but he couldn't give up.  Not yet.

 

\------

 

Shepard's first stop was the bathroom.  She didn't need a mirror to know she looked like a hot mess.  She dug through her bag and found the special soap she'd bought earlier from a less-than-sanitary shop that stank of thick incense, even to her human nose.

 "How can they cater to Krogans and Turians with that awful stench?  Maybe there's something I'm missing..."

She tossed the bar in her hands and pondered what she planned to do.  For a second, it seemed dirty and wrong but...

She snatched it out of the air with a look of conviction.

   
"Come on girl, you gave him every advantage you could without crippling the other guys.  If he's half as good as he thinks he is, he'll figure it out.  If not, well... maybe you're barking up the wrong tree.  Best you can do is prevent coming home stinking of another man's plates."  
_".... worst case scenario, I'll get a good night's sleep and pick up some blonde chick after lunch."_

   
After carefully reading the instructions on the package, she set the shower water as hot as she could stand and hopped in.

 

\------

 

Hmmm.... where would I go if I was hiding from me?

 

\------

 

Given what's left on that chit, what's the best she could afford?  Clearly, she's not a big saver.

 

\------

 

Which hotels have the fewest cameras?  Not any in the Presidium for sure... Maybe the Upper Wards then?

 

\------

 

Tarquin stopped in his tracks.

   
"Wait, her _feet!_   Of course!"

  
He doubled back the way he came twice as fast.

 

\------

 

Fresh out of her military speed shower, Shepard wrapped her hair in a towel and got to work applying lotions, salves, and makeup to every patch of skin she could reach.  Digging in her bag once more she found a black clothing box tied with silver ribbon.  With a flick of her wrist the tie fell to the floor and she swallowed thickly when she saw the box's contents.  It made her blush just looking at it, which wasn't easy to do, but the asari lady at the store swore by 'the Goddess' that this is what she needed.  Sure, Asari made the best sales reps in the galaxy - they could sell a poor man dirt - but if her recent time with Liara taught her anything, it was how to tell when they were lying.

Shepard sighed when a wave of depression hit her.  If she was honest with herself, she missed Liara.  Sure, she had changed -a lot- but she kind of liked T'soni 2.0.  She was dangerous and wicked smart and... Murdered her assistant in cold blood.  Right.  
   
"But, she _is_ the reason I'm alive right now.  Seems cruel to die her lover, be brought back out of a broken heart, and then just turn around and leave her for a Turian."  
  
She shook the feeling away so hard the towel fell off her head.  No.  She'd made her bed and she desperately wanted to go lie in it, preferably with a man of Palavanian decent.

Shockingly explicit images flashed in front of her mind's eye and she embraced them.  Tonight, she was a proudly single grown woman who was _far_ from dead.  There was more to life than doing exactly what other people asked of her, and tonight she was begging for someone to come over and drill that notion into her over and over until it stuck there.

Shepard stepped into the mirror to start fixing her hair.  The corner of her mouth curled devilishly.

  
"Hell....I'd do me."

 

\------

 

He looked over the purchase records again.

Conversations from the bar played in his head over and over.

What was he missing?

 

Also, what the _hell_ did she buy?  An Altus Mech?

 

\------

 

"Hello, I'm looking for a friend of mine.  Human, red hair, black dress, high shoes with red soles?  Anyone like that come in here?"  
"I'm sorry sir, but we don't divulge information about our clients without a warrant."  
"Ok that's fair.  How about a name, can I give you that?"  
"Sure.  Who are you trying to find sir?"  
"Last name Shepard as in the Commander?"  
"Oh no sir.  Even if I did have a reservation under that name I couldn't legally tell you anything about a Specter's whereabouts."  
"So…you don't have a reservation under the name Shepard, or you're just unable to tell me?  Which is it?"  
"No reservation sir."  
"Thank you.  One moment please."

 

\------

 

She wouldn't use her real name, but there's no Gunn is any hotel either, unless...

No, the lower wards?  She wouldn't...

 

 

Would she?

 

 

Spirits my head hurts.

 

\------

 

_"Wow...This woman just gets better and better huh?"_

 

_bzzt... Click_

 

"Excuse me again."  
"Yes sir?"  
"Can you see if you have a Ruby Red here?"  
"Sir, I don't mean to be rude, but are you actually looking for Spector Shepard?"  
"Oh no, this girl.... *sigh* She uses fake names.  If you know what I mean."  
"Ah, yes, one moment please."

  _clickclickclickclickclick_

 

"Yes.  There is a Ruby Red here.  Would you like me to inform her that you are here?"  
"Yes please.  Which room is it?"  
"Our Matriarch suite. Top floor."

_Nice..._

"Thank you very much.  Have a good night."  
"You too sir."

 

\------

 

"Well.... would you look at that. "

The single positive search result lit up his omnitool.   
 

<<Azure Towers: Matriarch Suite- 1 minute ago>>

   
Right as he walked away, his com rang and his heart sank.

 

\------

 

_buzz_

 

"Hello? "  
"Pardon me ma’am, but you have a visitor heading to your suite."  
"Excellent!  By the way, who did my visitor ask for?"  
"A Ruby Red, ma’am."

The 'thank you' choked in Shepard's throat as she closed the terminal.  She didn't know which was worse, the fact that this guy figured out her secret or that the other guy lost.

  
She looked around the suite.  It wasn't the nicest place she'd ever stayed in, but it was far from the worse.  Plush, black carpet, lavender walls, hidden lights that mimicked a subtle, candlelit glow.  She'd admit this, it was a room with a purpose. 

Shepard caught herself still standing at the table next to the overly plush, lavender bed with her finger still holding the off button on the com terminal.

To left was a short hall into the bathroom.  It wasn't large, but had provocative lighting and a very spacious shower that made her mind go amazing places.

Behind her was a dividing wall with a fireplace and a vid screen on each side, but behind that was a deep, long couch that wrapped the living space so well there was hardly any floor left.

To the right of that, there was a small but full kitchen with a spacious, empty island before you hit the entryway.

 

She looked to her right, over the bed, and out the window at the red tinted skyline of the lower ward.  The perpetual twilight here always set an... interesting mood, but that's why she always had a soft spot for it.  It had an air that nothing good ever happened here, and that assumption was usually correct.  Shifting her focus slightly, Shepard caught a glimpse of her reflection.  It shocked her, at least at first. 

Her hair was up like it was at the club, but without the gel - she'd curled it this time - her eyes were painted smoky black and her body was wrapped in a "dress" that was actually a single line of silk with red edges.  It started as a one shoulder "bra", trailed around her body in a tight spiral until it became a tiny skirt that did NOT cover her ass.  Most of it, sure, but certainly not all.  Her stockings were tighter than skin and cut at opposed outward angles.  The glossy, black, metal garter tops closed tight on her thighs with clips. 

The whole thing looked strange and wasn't her normal fare at all.  The lovely Asari woman had picked it out for her.

 

<<<<< 

 

"Hello!  How can I help you today ma’am?"

"Hi, yeah... ok, this is really strange for me."

"No need to worry ma’am.  There's nothing to be ashamed of.  Please, let me help you."

"Ok.  This stays HERE, right?  No one is going to hear about this?"

"No ma’am.  We take great pride in our reputation of discretion."

"Alright *sigh* So, I'm meeting a Turian tonight, and it's.... I'm trying to minimize the awkwardness, if you know what I mean. "

"Have you ever slept with a Turian before?"

"Yes, once, but he had a thing for humans... this guy doesn't.  But, we've been friends for a long time, and I think I really like him.  I... I just... "

"Don't want to scare him away?"

"Yes.  Please help me."

"Absolutely ma’am.  The key is to minimize the breasts while extenuating the hips, legs, neck, and shoulders while keeping the waist as little as possible.   Also, if you don't mind me saying so, you may want to invest in a pair of heels."

"I know... I just bought some."

"Oooh!  Excellent taste ma’am!"

"Eh.  I'm not very good at half-assing."

 

>>>>> 

 

Shepard looked at her feet.  The new shoes were holding up surprisingly well, but thank goodness she had sprung for the mass effect field insoles or her feet would be two massive blisters by now.

Her heart fell again with another wave of depression and she grudgingly spoke into her omnitool.

However, when she heard the knock on the door a few minutes later, her worried, sunken heart leapt all the way out her throat with a startled, half excited peep.

 

\------

 

On the long elevator ride up, he pulled up a few pages on the extranet.  Forum posts, pictures, a couple vids that he scrubbed through instead of watched.  He tapped his foot to the energetic music that played softly through his earpiece.  This was far from the biggest challenge he'd ever faced, but a little hype music never hurt.  The elevator stopped a couple times on the way, a handful of people getting in and out each time, but he fully ignored them.  He had a full night planned, lots of research to do, and precious energy to spare... especially on something as trivial as people watching.

He heard the elevator VI say, "20th floor.  VIP and Matriarch Suites," and moved forward, but that's the last thing he remembered.

 

\------

 

Shepard heard EDIs voice in her omnitool as she threw on one of the short, fuzzy hotel robes on the way to the door.

"Commander, Officer Vakarian is asking why he must report back to the ship.  
  
She paused, guilt gripping her throat again, but she took a sobering breath and replied.

"Tell him... Tell him I won't be returning to the ship tonight and he needs to feed the fish for me."

The lying words tasted like vomit in her mouth and she turned the whole system off and threw it on a bit of counter.   Shepard blinked away the last dregs of regret and put her hand on the door.  She couldn't look Tarquin in the eye, not yet, so instead she looked at the door as she stepped back to open it.  Just as she hoped, a deep, Turian voice made the first move.

 

 

 

"I'm not feeding your damn fish."

 


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's visitor...isn't very happy with her.

  
  
Shepard couldn't speak.  
  
  


"Were you expecting... someone else?"  
  


_But.... But....  
_  

Garrus strode inside and locked the door behind him - not just electronically but physically as well - and never took his eyes off her.  Those icy blues were repelling her silver orbs like opposing magnets and all she could do was follow the movements.  
  


"Well...?"  
 

_Shit...he asked me a question.  I didn't hear it._

  
She tried to will words into her mouth, but they never came.

Did he know?  Was he the one who asked for Ruby?  What was she going to say?  Was he going to kill her in here?  
 

"You know... If you keep leaving your mouth open, something might go in it."  
 

She snapped her jaw up with a click of teeth.  
_Come ON Shepard!  THINK!!  
_ "I... I... don't know what” She shook her head violently.  "WHO I was expecting." 

"Oh, really now?"

_Christ, his voice is low.  Not helping!_

"One out of seven odds?"  Garrus had backed her into the kitchen now.  The rounded corner of the island stabbed her spine as she backed into it, almost tripping, as if he conspired with the Citadel itself to pin her down.

 "One out of seven?" He rumbled deep and eerily.  "Really.  Is that how little faith you have in me?"

"Did-Didn't really calculate likelihood," she stammered gripping the edges of the quartz top counter.

"Why didn't you tell me Shepard?"

_Oh no._

"T... T-Tell you what?"

God, she felt tiny.... Either that or he was huge.  
Maybe both. 

Massive hands came down to the countertop over hers, dwarfing them, and he leaned closer.

"That you like Turians."

_Had he blinked yet?  I don't think he's blinked yet.  I don't think I have either…_

"Umm... Never came up?"

 

He tilted his head in a creepy, genuinely angry way.   
"Uh huh.  And all those times you made me watch as you picked up and _FUCKED_ strings and strings of skinny, high-pitched, ditzy, blue and brown women.  You _NEVER_ thought to _MENTION IT?_ "

_Oh God... he IS going to kill me.  Deflect!  Now!_

"I, uh.... swing both ways?"  
  
He threw his enormous head back.  "HA!"  It slammed back down.  "Right... "

_Was he?  Was he doubting me?  Judging me?  Wow Gare, never pegged you for a homophobe._

"And what's THAT supposed to mean?!"

 "What I _MEAN_ is!"  
  
_Finally! He blinked! Ohthankgod._  
  
"I know you pretty well Shepard, better than you might think.  You like _people_ , not boxed stereotypes.  And yet... every, single, time we're on shore leave you lower yourself to these basic, boring, broads that I _know_ you have to gag just to stand them.  Liara being the one exception."

_Yeah.... I can't argue that…_

Garrus closed his eyes and slowly jerked his head to one side.  Shepard heard something crack.  He looked back at her and pushed off the counter.

"Honestly Shepard, _that_ hurt the most.  I stood right beside you on the day you became a Spector.  I slept on the floor, ate nothing but nutrient paste, fixed everything you ever broke, and never complained once... and you fell for the bubble girl?  I can't lie to you, it felt a little personal."

She swallowed. _When you say it like that..._

"But," Garrus continued with a raised hand.  "I accepted it.  You are allowed to be a lesbian, and that's fine.  Personally disappointing, but fine.  I put on a strong face and let it go."

Slowly, menacingly, his hand curled into a fist as he visibly bit back rage.  
"And then... tonight happened."

_He can't even look at me...  
_ _Just kidding, he is gonna kill me._

"You show up out of nowhere in that… _mind blowing_ dress, and proceed to _flirt_ , with all my superiors, _RIGHT in FRONT OF ME!_ "

Garrus's knuckle plates were creaking from the pressure in his fists.  When armored shoulders pulled back, his spiked head cocked ever so slightly as if he couldn't figure out what to do with her.  The broad, burned, blue-clad chest rose and fell but was permanently puffed.

"I _tried_ to be nice," he hissed through daggers.  "I _tried_ to keep a straight face, but _SPIRITS_ Shepard!!  I'd rather fight every Geth in the damn galaxy then go through that again!  I _thought_ you were teasing them.  You heard our conversation and thought it'd be fun to jerk us around or something, ok, _FINE_!  I found a way to live with that too.  Maybe even enjoyed it... "

_I... have no words._

"But THEN, at the last second… You drop a freaking BOMB on my head and VANISH!" 

He relaxed for a moment.

"And you know what?  I was going to go home, sleep it off, and laugh with you about it in the morning over some coffee.  No matter how badly it would hurt to do so." 

Shepard blinked out of her stun.  "Wait, really?"

Arched back straightened, but eyes kept her pinned.  "Yes, really, because _I_ actually respect you.  Unlike the rest of those varren who just want to hang you around their necks like a trophy."

_huh?_

"So, why didn't you?  What happened?"

"Tarquin."

_Ooo... That sounded angry._

"Tarquin?"

He nodded slowly.  "The minute you left he threw a fit, ducked out under the table, and disappeared.  Now, I know you just met him, but his father and my father are long friends.  I grew up around with the guy and I'm telling you, there is a reason his nickname is Pyjack."

"He's....annoying?"

"He is a mischievous, cocky, lying little _shit_ who runs up walls and leaves a trail of broken women in his wake.  Worse yet, he is slated for black ops and he almost beat me here."

"Wow, tell us how you really feel..."

"I just di-” He snapped his eyes shut and held up hands. "Never mind."

Shepard relaxed enough to cross her arms.  "So, I assume he's the one who had the front desk call up?"

Garrus shrugged and gestured with his thumb.  "Maybe.  I didn't.  I took the back stairs and caught up with his elevator on the 10th floor."

"You ran up ten flights of stairs in full armor?" she gawked.

Garrus's usual, dry smirk finally reappeared.  
"Only five, if you take them two at a time."

"Holy shit..."  


Shepard's words were whispered as her eyes glazed over with stun and she stared and something near her feet.  That's how an armored shoulder smacked into her chin and knocked her jaw out of place. 

She was about to reprimand him for it, but stopped when she realized that Garrus had wrapped her in a giant, turian bear hug.  It was like the com room after Omega all over again and, in much the same way as before, she smiled, leaned in and wrapped her arms around his barrel-like carapace to return it.

"Thank you Garrus.  I'm sorry.  I-"

"Don't."

The short, breathed word was steeped heavily with both exhaustion and relief.  In that moment Shepard remembered that his people communicated with body language more so than words, so she pulled him close and they both said everything they needed to.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Shepard hated to break the sweet, meaningful conversation of silence they were sharing, but she was starting to become aware of her own exhaustion, as well as an overwhelming sense of foolishness for her outlandish outfit.

Thank God for the robe.

Luckily, he broke the tension for her when his chest twitched with a tiny laugh.  It made her smile, like he always managed to do, and she spoke softly into his back.

 

"What's so funny?"  
"You're still wearing those shoes."  
"Well...Girl's gotta get her money's worth." 

He pulled back a bit, but didn't remove his touch, only slid it around to her shoulder and her ribs.  Thankfully, his eyes were softer now - perhaps even softer than the usually were - as they seemed to drink in her body's smallest details as they moved up from her feet.  Shepard pulled her lips in to swallow an embarrassed giggle.  She knew she must look ridiculous wearing designer heels and a hotel robe that looked more like a towel with sleeves.  Hopefully, she wouldn't have to reveal what was under it.

She knew what she  _wanted_ to say, but it took a second to think of a platonic way to voice it.  Finally, she settled on the same actions she took that day in the com room and patted his chest plate.

 

"Come on big guy, let's get some sleep.  I know you're exhausted...."

Garrus rumbled with a deep, almost scary laugh.  "Ohhh no you don't.  Nice try though." 

She was expecting _some_ sass, but not the low, distant earthquake kind of growl that came with it.  He took a half step back and held her at arm’s length, freezing her there with a playful but still stony stare.

"You offered Shepard.  Two answered, and I won.  You have every right to say no, but if you do I _will_ take it personally."

_Crap.\_

"No that's..." She winced her face up and tried to find better words.  "That's not what I mean at all."

He started to sound just as exhausted and confused as she felt.  "Then what do you mean Shepard?"

_Damn you raptor man!_

"I'm just trying to be...nice?  I guess?"  Shepard pulled back slightly and rubbed the back of her neck. "Look, this whole night has been a monument to me and my selfishness and I feel terrible about it.  I've been a colossal jerk and I'm...."  She let her head flop down in defeat.  "I'm embarrassed."

Garrus didn't say anything, not at first.  Instead, she felt the back of her hair clip squeeze together and pull away.  Her scalp tingled pleasantly as her tightly wound curls tumbled loosely around her face.  After a quiet beat, a gentle talon slid across her crown like the end of a comb and lifted a section of bouncy locks away.  Then the talon continued down the back of her skull, brushed behind her ear, and ghosted around her jaw before resting under her chin, pushing slightly upwards to raise it.  Her eyes fluttered open to greet his smiling face and she felt a gloved thumb slide across her cheek.

"It's ok to be selfish sometimes Shepard."  
She shifted her eyes away.  "Still doesn't feel right..."  
"Sure it does!"  Garrus was beaming, but in a very new way.  "Do you think I was being altruistic when I knocked out Tarquin Victus in the elevator?  Hell no!"  
Shepard's jaw dropped.  "You what?"

Garrus nodded proudly.  "He was watching human pornography vids and let his guard down.  So, when he tried to leave, I cracked him in the back of the head and sent the lift back to down the lobby.  Probably still there for all I know."

Her mouth fell wide open, but she remembered his earlier threat and recovered with a lip lick.  Suddenly, it was easy to imagine Garrus doing all those insane things she had heard about Archangel.  Maybe there was more to this kid after all.

"The point is," he continued with a smirk as the hand on her cheek lowered to her shoulder.  "I didn't just do it for you.  I did it for me.  The thought of you two?  _Together?_ "  He growled so loud through his pinched tight mandibles it was almost a roar.  " _HRRRGRAA!!_   It made my blood boil!  I was angry!  I was selfish!"  He leaned forward, lowered to a whisper, and gripped little tighter, "And it felt _amazing…_ "

 

Shepard grinned and bit her lower lip as she felt confidence start swelling back into her body.

"Damn Garrus, I might like you when you're angry."  
"Had a feeling you might."   
His hand slid around the back of her neck as if poised to strike.  
"But, you know what's funny, Shepard?"  
"Tell me."  
"If it weren't for Tarquin, I probably would have never found the guts to tell you…"  Garrus yanked Shepard's body into him until her stomach was fully pressed against his.  "…That you are, without a doubt, the most stunning woman I have ever laid eyes on and I am _dying_ to know what's underneath that robe.  If you'll have me." 

Two long fingers wrapped themselves a fistful of red curls, keeping their eyes locked as he spoke.  There wasn't a drop of hesitation in him.  He meant those words with every fiber of his being and they hit her with a one-two punch to her heart and her groin, but this was her friend.  Could she really see this through?  


Shepard's mouth opened and closed a few times before answering as she fought herself, but finally came up with something to say.  
"It's not that I don't…cause I do…but…"  Words kept failing her.  She cut to the chase.  "You're one of the only friends I've got left, Garrus.  I don't want to ruin that.  That thought is…terrifying." 

As exhausted and paralyzed with nerves and conflicting thoughts as Shepard was, Garrus, once again, caused them all to vanish with nothing but a chuckle and a smile.

"Shepard, you fly all over the galaxy to help everyone else with their smallest problems.  Let me help you for once, please.  If anyone deserves to blow off some steam, it's you."  He rubbed his crest against her head, still grinning.  "Besides, isn't that what friends are for?"

"Yeah," she breathed.  "I supposed that is better than a random stranger."  She looked up with a strong look in her eye.  "Can keep this here?  I wasn't really looking for…strings."

 His chest started to rumble.  "You know me Shepard, not a big fan of red tape."

Shepard started heating up again and bit her lip in response.  "Ooooh, Garrus…" Even to her own ears it was hard to tell if Shepard was warning or moaning.  "That noise you're making is dangerous."

He got louder.  "Oh really?  How so…?"  He knew what he was doing.  
  
"Because," she purred under an evil grin.  "If you keep that up we are going to leave this suite in ruins."

Garrus sounded like an oncoming train.

"Then what's stopping you?"

"Energy!" she huffed half laughing with an arched brow.  "I'm about to pass out, and honestly, after those stairs, I don't know how you're still standing!"

"Willpower and adrenaline mostly, " he said with a smile.  "But, I have an idea."

She raised her brow a little further to turn her joke into a question and Garrus further in, hissing in her ear, "You still have those elatus cubes, right?"

Shepard gasped.  "Oh yeah... I DO!"

The noise he made in her ear was _officially_ growl now.  


"Go get em."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No music this time, but grab a glass ladies and gentlemen...because here comes the citrus!


	4. Azure Towers Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locked in the Matriarch Suite of Azure Towers, and issues worked out, Shepard and Garrus eat a turian snack with seriously strong "natural stimulants" and go completely nuts. Part 1  
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Recommended Listening:** "Wasted" by Tiesto, Matthew Koma
> 
> *sips lemonade*  
> I'm not sorry.  
>   
> 

 

Shepard crossed the kitchen in a single stride, opened the fridge, and came back with a plastic bag containing two pink cubes.  Garrus was leaning over the island on crossed arms.  Shepard could see the bedroom behind him, but something in his eyes told her she wasn't going to make it that far.  No, she would be trapped in the suite's kitchenette until he allowed her to leave.  The thought sent chills down her spine and she scampered over to the other side of his corner.

Garrus took the bag and pulled out a cube, turning it over in his fingers in front of them.  While she was focused on that, his other hand hovered over her back.

"Shepard, I've been waiting three years to say this..."  
She looked at him with excited curiosity.  He gave her a strange glance and clapped his hand on her back, grabbing the base of her neck a little.  
"You're a hero, a legend, the best Commanding Officer a soldier could hope for, and the best friend a guy could ask for..."   
His words hung in the air as he spun and pressed their heads together.  
"Now please, _please_ , take off your clothes and sit on my face."  

She gasped, just like Garrus knew she would, and he seized the opportunity to press the pink cube between her parted lips with an ungloved talon.  She immediately knew what he wanted and closed her glossy red lips around his finger and sucked the cube off the claw as he pulled away.  It dissolved almost instantly, just like last time, and he watched her eyes shrink in response.

"Oh yeah," he growled, grabbing and swallowing his own elatus without ever looking away.   "This is gonna be fun."

 

~~~~~~

 

He moved towards her with urgency, but steadied himself at the last minute.

"Now, let's see what your hiding under there..."

 _"Moment of truth,"_ Shepard thought.  She tightened her abs and did her best not to slouch as he pulled the string on her robe and peeled it open.

All three of Garrus's jaws dropped.  His eyes locked on her waist.  The robe fell to the floor. 

"Oh.  Spirits.  Wha-"

The last word trailed off, but it sounded more like breath leaving lungs than a word.  If anyone had been close enough, they could have probably heard the click when his brain stopped ticking.

Shepard swelled, more than pleased, and cracked an evil grin that made her voice all dark and smoky.

"You like it?"

 

His head fell slightly to one side, mandibles twitching the slightest amount as if neurons were firing at random.  Absently, a long, alien finger rotated in the air and she gave him her best slow turn in response.

Garrus hadn't moved an inch.  It was as she thought, all brain function had stopped, so Shepard made the first move.  In two sultry strides, she was close enough to wrap her arms around his neck.  Painted nails brushed lightly around the nerves under his fringe and whispered in his ear. 

"What do you want to ruin first big guy?"  
"COUCH!"  
"Well, ok then."

She walked the stunned turian back a few paces to the sitting room until he bumped the edge of armrest, forcing his weak legs to give out, and he sat on it.  Trying to break him of the trance, Shepard took his hands in hers and brought them to her ribs.  Slowly she pushed them down her sides, over her hips, and letting them rest at the top of her thighs.

He whimpered, like actually really whimpered.

"I can...touch it?"  
"Uh huh."  
"Has anyone…"  He swallowed slightly. "…seen this?"  
"No sir.  Just bought it today."

Garrus almost chocked.  A couple silent seconds later he brought his face into her stomach and made a sound so tiny she barely heard it.

"... mine."

She tried so hard not to laugh and rubbed the hump of his back.

"That's right.  All yours Garrus."

 

Slowly, painfully, he rubbed his face on her exposed skin and the grip on her legs got tighter.  He tugged at the silk with the point of his beak and Shepard felt a tiny, slightly wet sensation below her navel before being shot up into the air.

"MINE!"

The man exploded.  With dizzying speed, the room flew by and she cried out in shock when her exposed backside landed on the cold countertop.  By the time she looked up, half his armor was off.  He noticed her gaze and pushed her down with an arm and a mouth.  His hand was tangled in her hair, his mouth was nipping and pulling the tight skin of her stomach, and she could only assume the other hand was unbuckling pants.

When she felt his second hand slide up her leg to push the skirt away from a soft hip, her insides almost burst just thinking about what was about to happen, but then he sounded angry.

"I don't... _want_ to take it off... but I _NEED_ to."

"Luckily," she whispered back, placing her hand on his and pulled towards her core, "You don't have to choose."

She pushed one of his talons between her soaking wet folds and he inhaled with a very loud, hungry snarl.

The hand in Shepard's hair snapped to her thigh and yanked up, pulling her hips to Garrus's face where he proceeded to devour her like a starved man in front of a Thanksgiving dinner.

 

Three years of pent up, repressed, primal need was bursting out of him all at once, and it was impossible to ignore.  How could anyone want something this badly and manage keep it hidden for so long? 

The thought only lasted half a second before she felt herself start to peak.  Steel eyes rolled back in their sockets and painted nails clung to the base of his fringe in desperation.  The first climax hit her in between the eyes like a maw hammer and she howled.  His body thundered in response, and a predatory growl followed the path of his long mouth muscle where it shook her whole body from the inside out.

Her moans were pleading, and it only fanned his flame.  Garrus pulled her up even higher until her shoulder blades were only thing touching the counter.  She steadied herself by hooking a leg over each of his shoulders and pulled him closer.  

It didn't take long before the insane mixture of slightly rough fingers and writhing, dark blue alien tongue had her screaming all over again.

 

"Gah!" Garrus shouted when he finally came up for air.  When their drugged, tired, lust fogged eyes met over mutual panting they both chucked at the sight of each other.   
"Officer?" she purred with body shaking from lust and stims.  
He licked the exposed length of her inner thigh.  
"Commander..."  
"Lay down on the couch.  Now."  
"Oh.... yes ma’am."

Garrus picked Shepard's legs off his shoulders and let him down gently.  Slipping one arm behind her waist, Garrus picked up his new mate and placed her heels on the floor with a subtle click.  Shepard brought her hands up his bare chest plates admiring them, then crested over his shoulders and down his arms which made his hands release her.  Gradually Shepard worked her way back up to his cowl, curling a handful of delicate looking fingers around it.

"That was an order Vakarian."

Before he could react, she sidestepped and dragged him across the living space, backwards, by his cowl.  When she reached a spot she found acceptable, he grabbed the closest hip spur, summoned all her stim-enhanced strength, and threw the howling, naked Turian around her body and onto the couch where he landed with a wide-eyed crash. 

"I.... I think I love you," he gasped breathless.

Shepard stared back, huffing and puffing.  "You damn well better."

She swung her leg over and straddled him, pinning his painfully swollen member to his stomach with her wet center.  He threw his head back and made a noise that sounded like several farm animals in Collector blender.  She gripped his collar with her left hand in full, Texan, bull rider stance and growled back.

"Now.  Are you going to fuck me or not?"

Shepard heard her skin pop before she felt it.

Talons locked around her hips in a death grip and pulled her down as Garrus plunged himself inside of her with insane amounts of force.

 

Now it was Shepard's turn to howl.

In hindsight, maybe she should have actually LOOKED at it before winding him up so tight.  
But, it was too late now.

 

Her insides burned like she'd been impaled on a white-hot spike.  Out of reflex, she tried to jump off, but the six, inch-long Turian talons in her flesh wouldn't let her.  Instead, she was forcibly held there and revenged over, and over, and over again with the same desperation his tongue had displayed before.

To Shepard, it was Heaven.  Sex with an unhinged Turian was every bit as primal and brutal as she hoped it would be and that was _exactly_ what she needed right now.  She had been in charge of so many people for so long it was euphoric for once, just once, to let someone else to take the reins.

Better yet, she really liked this guy.  They weren't strangers.  No one had to sneak out of the other's room in the morning.  Man, if she knew this was going to happen, she would have spent even more money at Cipritene Armory.  Also, if he kept this up, she vowed to drain every late credit Cerberus had just spoiling him rotten.

  
From Shepard's perspective, the whole thing was one giant orgasm, but when she felt Garrus's pace get jagged and quicken she locked her heels under his legs, pressed down on his cowl, and trapped him there.

"Shepard... I"

"Do it.  You know you want to."

Annoyed by his ability to speak, she ran her right hand under his fringe latched on.  The effects were swift and immediate.  He let out a crazy alien wail, bit her forearm, and exploded.  Sensory overload blurred her vision into a mess of stars and purple spots and she shamelessly crashed like she'd run head first into a tidal wave.  Judging by the sounds he was making; the feeling was mutual.

The hand still holding his cowl buckled and they collapsed into a pile of flesh, plates and silk.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

At some point, they both woke up, groaning with crashing headaches.  Shepard tried to move, but realized she still couldn't because, even though they had slacked considerably, there were still teeth and claws stuck in her skin. 

She butted the side of his head with her nose.

"Hey.... can you... uh... open your mouth?"

 

Garrus's eyes snapped open with a start and, thankfully, so did his mouth.  The wound started to hurt and bleed again, but it was worth it.  In fact, she got a kick out of seeing the dried blood all over his face.  He looked like a real predator.

"Ah!!  Shepard I'm…!"  
"Nooope!  Don't you DARE!  You'll ruin it."

He looked at her puzzled, she rolled her eyes.

"Apologies ruin it for me.  I knew what I was getting into, just... let he have this."  
He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "You know you're crazy, right?"  
"Eh, you like it."

Maybe it was just Shepard's imagination, but the way Garrus held her close it felt like he was trying to press her ear to his broad, plated chest in an attempt to make her listen.  Either way, she didn't have to speak Turian to understand the unspoken words that purred inside of him.

"Yeah.... I really do."

 

~~~~~

 

Shepard's heart hurt a little bit when he eventually released her, but luckily, he didn't pull away so she continued to enjoy the comforting vibrations.  Somehow, they made her sore muscles relax and her spinning hangover throb a little less.

 

"Mmmm..." she moaned with still closed eyes and a smile.  "You have a real gift Garrus."  
"Hmm?" he trilled softly. "And what would that be?"  
"This," she sighed as she rubbed a cheek against his keel.  "Whatever this delicious rumbling is.  It's great for headaches."  
She felt him chuckle over the purring, and his voice vibrated with it a little.  
"I know.  The frequency promotes healing.  Didn't know it worked on humans though..."  
She smiled wider into his plates.   "So, you ARE purring!  That's awesome."

Shepard felt subtle tug on her foot and before long both of her fancy shoes were in his hand and he reached back and placed them on a section of couch behind them.

"Unfortunately," Garrus replied when he turned back to her.  "I'm afraid it won't be enough.  You still need a medkit.  Got one stashed around here?"   
She nodded, "Always do.  Bathroom, under the sink."

Shepard felt her legs push back and he slid away, carefully turning her over as he sat on the matching, upholstered ottoman.   Garrus glanced around for half a second and grabbed a back cushion from a nearby, unused section of couch, placed it behind Shepard, propping her back up onto it.  She couldn't help but grin and giggle at how "gentle giant" he was being, and Garrus took the opportunity to pull her injured arm up and wedge it into a plush crease beside her.  Finally, he pressed his crest to her head and nuzzled her nose with his.

"Just relax.  I'll be right back."  
"Yes sir."

His plates creaked against each other as he stood tall on those crazy looking legs and he disappeared into the bathroom across the suite.

Shepard sighed, she had never called him "sir" before in her life.  Not once, and yet, it felt…right somehow.  
She ran a flat palm over her forehead and stared at the ceiling, still smiling.   
_"I've gone soft...for a Turian of all things.... God help us all."_

Her head rolled to the side when she heard the water shut off and a moment later, the clean face Turian in question strode out of the bathroom holding a red medkit, a couple rolled washcloths, and a bowl of water.  Shepard felt her smile involuntarily spread wider when he sat down on the ottoman next to her, positioning his supplies around him just so. 

At least Garrus seemed to be smiling too, this would be _way_ more awkward if he wasn't.

"Now," he said dipping a cloth into the bowl.  "Let's see that arm."

Loving the attention, Shepard happy crossed her arm over her chest and extended it towards him.  He took it gingerly and resting the hand holding it on his knee he began to pat the wound clean with the delightfully warm, wet, cloth.  It felt so very nice...

She looked up when he stopped and turned towards the kit to find a disinfecting spray.  "Deep breath," he purred and she braced herself for the sharp but short-lived sting.  When her eyes opened again, she tried to read his face.  On the surface, he was happy and calm, but if she watched closely she could see the nearly healed mandible away from her twitch ever so slightly.  Suddenly, the full picture came together.

"Hey now, none of that."  Garrus sat up startled like she pinched him and spun his head around.  
"None of what?  Medigel?"  
  
For a split second her eyes narrowed as she caught a hint of sub vocal tone she didn't understand.   
Almost... hopeful, nervous surprise?  
She'd figure it out later.   
Deflect.  Laugh.

"No dummy, I mean that guilty look on your face!  Didn't I tell you not to apologize?"  
That seemed to relax him back to normal.  Garrus leaned on his words and gave her a playful eyeful.  
"Oh no Commander, I wouldn't DARE."

Smug idiot freaking turned her words around on her!  God, why was that suddenly so charming?

"Ok.  Haha.  I'll give you that one.  But, seriously though."  She touched his wrist with her good hand.  "Please don't feel bad.  However, if it bothers you so much, I won't egg you on any more.  You've probably got it hard enough as it is."

Shepard sighed as the medigel cooled her skin and he purred his words to her.

"What do you mean Shepard?  Do you think this is difficult for me?"

His voice implied a heartfelt, honest question, but his eyes burned into hers in a way she hadn't seen since Omega.

Hmmm...yep!  Deflect with humor.

"Well, I mean, it has to be... right?  As many Krogans so eloquently put it: I'm tiny, squishy, and easily breakable."  
"Shepard..." Garrus gave her an almost condescending look out the corner of his eye.  "Krogan are idiots."  
"Pfft!  I'm telling Wrex you said that."  
"Go ahead!  He'll probably agree with me."  
She shook her head.  "You're dodging the question."

Arm freshly wrapped, Garrus placed it across her stomach and let his hand trail down her body until it stopped at the metal garter on her left thigh.  The smooth back if a claw pressed against her skin and slipped beneath the dark lip before sliding back and forth across her leg. Without a word, he flicked open the clip holding the thin stocking in place and started to pull it down her leg.  She pried her eyes away from his actions long enough to glance at his face.  He was humming softly in a pitch almost too low for her to hear and his soft, bright blue eyes seemed to be savoring every tiny piece of newly revealed skin. 

She looked back down when the tension from the other leg clip released.  Humming slightly louder, he shifted his knees and pulled her straight legs over his lap and continued to enjoy his slow peeling.

When both stockings were puddled around her ankles, he finally pushed them off her feet and let them fall to the ground.  Thick, leathery palms worn smooth by time pressed into the skin of her legs and rubbed up along her muscles and down the lines of her bones.  It was euphoric and Shepard's eyes fell closed as her head sank into the pillow. 

Almost lost is a sea of bliss, Shepard giggled slightly and wiggled her toes when his focus turned to her feet.  The gentle pressure eased her tired soles, but every now and then it would tickle a bit.  The side of a large, alien finger pressed under the ball of her right foot and she felt him spread her toes with another.  His thumb brushed along the tops of her toenails, newly painted the same shade as her hair.

She was pulled out of her trance like state when the gentle humming flipped into an almost angry growl.  It was a bit startling, but she knew him well enough to know it couldn't be directed at her.

"Something bothering you?"  
"No..." he whispered.  "It's nothing."  
She propped up on her elbows a little and gave him an easy look she hoped would translate.  
"It's ok, you can tell me.  I won't kick you or anything."   
He seemed to deflate as much as he bristled.  
"It's just.... He's an idiot."  
"Who?" she cooed with a slight tilt of her head. "Oh, Tarquin?"

The toothy growl is all she needed to hear.  

Shepard pushed the top of her other foot into his hand to calm him down.  
"Hey, take it easy... Talk to me."  
"I hate that guy."  
"I can tell."

Garrus hung his head and almost sighed.  "It's not my place..."

He trailed off, trying to find the words to express what he was thinking, but Shepard was getting pretty good at reading his face... much to her surprise.  She pulled her legs off his lap and sat up, putting a hand over the good side of his face.  He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, only confirming what she already knew.

"Garrus, look at me."

He did, gradually.

"I'm glad you're here."

His sad eyes recovered their usual happy sparkle and she couldn't help it anymore.

Shepard leaned in, pulled his face close, and kissed him right on the lips.  He purred in response and pulled her onto his lap like she weighed nothing.  Mid kiss, Shepard's smile spread wide and she wrapped her other arm around his neck and deepened her gesture.  She felt the heat between start to rise again and she loved it, but that wasn't the point... not this time.  She, flicked the tip of her tongue under the upper tip of his stony beak and kissed his chin as she pulled away to press their heads together.

"To answer your question..." Garrus hummed, rubbing his nose against hers before pulling back and cupping her face. "This isn't hard.  Not even a little."  This time, he brought their heads together.  "Being with you... like this.... It's the easiest thing I've ever done."

Shepard was grinning like a teenage idiot and swallowed the hold back the tears.  She was afraid to speak, but couldn't leave something like that.  Her voice was little more than a soft squeak when she answered.

"Me too."  


~~~~~~~~~  
 

A snap, a zip, and the release of fabric brought Shepard back to her senses.  She opened her eyes to find her chest nearly exposed as the once flashy outfit hung loose around her shoulders and hips.  She laughed with a bit of uncharacteristic nervousness.  She's been avoiding showing him her breasts, not only because Turians didn't have any but hers were scarred and, admittedly, not that great.   
Stupid Cerberus... couldn't be bothered to fix anything while you were in the neighborhood?

"Huh.  Guess you knew how to get this off all along..."  
"Mmhmm.  Just didn't want to."  
She tried to deflect.  
"Oh really!  What changed big guy?"  
"Couple things..."  
Wow, she walked right into that one.   
"But mostly," he sat her up a little, "You still need some patching."    
Shepard rolled her eyes, "Garrus, please.  I've had so much worse.  You really don't have to." 

He long blinked and moved his head a fraction in the galaxy's smallest shrug.  "It's not that I doubt your resilience Shepard.  I want to do this.  Blame it on…Turian honor or something."

"Wow, and here I thought you were some hotshot rebel."  
"I'm in bed with a human, aren't I?"  
"Ooo…Touche sir"  
_Damn it!  I did it again!  What the fuck is wrong with me?_

He rumbled loud, pleased with his tiny victory and slid his hands under the tiny black skirt of her lingerie 'dress' and slowly pulled them up the sides of her body, dragging the silken fabric along with him.  Her vision darkened for a moment as the dress passed over her head, then a tangled mess of hair feel down around her face in surprisingly bouncy curls.

  
Finally.  They were both naked, alone, and shockingly close.

When Shepard brought her arms back down she almost brought them across her breasts to hide them, but Shepard feared revealing her insecurities more than his possible judgment and dropped her arms around his cowl instead.

Garrus gave her body a lightning fast once over with his eyes and she caught the tiny mandible twitch of approval.

"Like what you see?" She asked as coolly as possible.  
"What do _you_ think?"   
His low, snarky voice paired with that single, raised high, brow plate made Shepard sputter with laughter before she could cover her mouth to hide it.  Her fingers picked up the heat of her face and she realized she was blushing.   
_Blushing?  Because of a Turian?  Who ARE you??_

He rumbled loud, proud, and highly amused as he laid her back on the couch and wet the clean washcloth in the bowl.   The water wasn't warm anymore, but she didn't mind.  Her skin was hot enough as it was.

Once the matching puncture wounds on her hip bones (left by his thumbs probably) were clean, Garrus cocked his head and pinched the skin around one of them.

"Hmm... Do you trust me?"  
Shepard sputtered her lips.  "You kidding?  Of course I do!  I trust you more than..." She glanced at the ceiling for a beat. "Anyone actually.  Congratulations."  
Garrus's happy rumble became mixed with a purr. "You flatter me.  Now, hold still."  
He turned to the medkit and she heard an instantly recognizable peeling of plastic and paper she'd learned to associate with needles.  
  
_Wait....is he?_

Before she finished the thought, he turned back around with a tiny curve of metal in his fingers.

"Garrus! You know how to suture stitch?"  
He nodded and leaned in coyly. "Does your military NOT teach this in basic?"  
"They do!" she snapped before she pursed her lips and shifted her gaze.  "I'm just... not very good at it."  
He barked a hardy laugh and shook his head.  "FINALLY!  Something you can't do! ... Other than dancing of course."  
She crossed her arms in a huff, "Yeah, laugh it up ya dumb bird."  
He leaned in close to her face with a smirk filled snarl and growled at her.  
"Careful woman.... Those insults stick to you now."

Shepard's face turned almost as red as her hair and she sank into a pout.   But before she could say anything in reply, something sharp stabbed her sensitive skin.   She wound back to punch him, but thought better of it and lashed him verbally instead.

"You ASS!  You distracted me!"  
"Worked, didn't it?"

He leaned back and tilted his face towards the wound that was already perfectly tied shut.

"Holy shit... You can do that one handed??"  
"It's a very useful skill to have when you have to patch up your own arm."  
"Eh...I just bleed out.  Seems easier."  
"I would prefer if you didn't."

With that, Garrus slid over to the couch, lifted her legs, sat down, and placed them in his lap again.  She caught him looking down at the long string still anchoring the needle in his hand to her hip.

"Do you need scissors or a knife or something?"  
"No need," he rumbled as his head lowered to her pelvis. "I brought my own."

His eyes stayed locked with hers as he pulled the string tight and snapped his jaw over it leaving two, perfectly cut ends.

Right then, Shepard decided that Garrus was going to be her doctor from now on.

"Damn…"  She hissed through her own arousal.  "Do that again!"  
"Oh.  I will."  Garrus sprayed a disinfectant over the second hole and gave her a sly look. "We've still got five more to go Shepard."

Eyes snapped shut with sharp breath as the needle stabbed her again, but this time she blindly gripped whatever edge of couch she could find.  She'd have to get one of these for her quarters.  The seats on human couches were never this deep... maybe it was made for Krogan?  Elcor?  Didn't matter.  It was the width of a full-size bed and easily three times as long.  She wanted one, in a different color of course.

Her eyes opened just in time to see him bite the ends of the suture short with that perfect jaw that defined the term "scissor bite".

 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, already knowing the answer.  
"Is... is this even a thing?" she panted with equal part confusion and heat.  If it isn't, you've just created one."  
Garrus's words tumbled out of his mouth like rocks down an icy mountain.  
"Thought you might like it… seemed like the type."  He flipped her over onto her stomach and rumbled into the back of her head, "Glad I was right."  
Shepard wrapped her arms around the thick pillow and held on for dear life.  She'd have to get through the next four sutures blind and she didn't know if that made it better or worse.  Both maybe... Depends on how you look at it.

Sting.  Stab.  Tug.  
Snap.  
Another one down, but that wasn't too bad because it was in the middle of her butt cheek.  Lord knows there was plenty of padding back there...

She hissed with the sharp sting of the spray.  
Gasped when the needle popped through her flesh.  
Moaned out a groan when he pulled the skin closed tight.  
But, when she heard his mouth snap like the heavy maw of a giant, metal crocodile, it sent a shock up her spine and she secretly begged for him to do it again.

Open hands lifted the sides of her hips and she brought her knees up under her.  She was soaking wet and her walls were aching an embarrassing amount.  She could hide it (or at least downplay it) before but in this position, she was on full display.  
  
Shepard straightened her arms under her and turned her head back halfway.  
"Is this really ness--HMMP!"  
"Hush."

This professional asshole just put a hand on Shepard's upper back and pushed her face into the pillow mid-sentence to silence her.  She cursed at herself.  It had only been a couple hours and Garrus, the turian, already had her dialed in.   Unfortunately, that could only mean one of two things:  Shepard wasn't nearly as good at hiding as she had previously thought or Garrus been planning this for a _very_ long time.

Well… Either that or they were soul mates.  Which would be a very awkwardly timed revelation.

"And yes, it is necessary."  He continued calm and smug.  "The skin has to be pulled tight... unless you want lumpy scars on your otherwise perfect ass."  
"You're enjoying this, aren't you," Shepard growled, annoyed and muffled into the pillow.  
"Yes,"  
_sss... AH!  hnnnn...snap!  
_ "Yes I am."

Biotic sparks zipped down her spine like static.

Fortunately, or unfortunately (again, depends on how you look at it), his left hand happened to be resting on her tailbone at the time.  The moment she heard him hiss, she knew exactly what happened and grinned.

"You SHOCKED me!"  
"I try to keep it interesting."  
"Great. Now my fingers are numb."  
"Maybe if you weren't so _conductive_ it wouldn't hurt as bad."  
"Very funny Shepard"

_sting_

"Only one left.  Pity... "  
"AHHH!!"  
He jabbed her with the needle hard enough to make her scream.  She instinctively tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down and held her there while he purposely poked around.  
"Sorry Shepard, this one is… _stubborn_."  
"Only half as stubborn as you!"  
"You're right, I should try another angle."  
"AHHHH! FUCK!"  
"Well," _snap!_   "If you insist."

She curled into the pillow and moaned shamelessly when he stabbed her again with something much, MUCH bigger than a needle.  Truthfully, it was more like a battering ram. Wood against wall, smashing into her with strength, purpose, and intent to storm her castle.  It wasn't long before her defenses started to fall and she started to welcome the thought of an invasion…consisting of thousands of Turian soldiers.  Wave after delicious wave of them.

  
  
Unfortunately, that's when his omnitool rang.

  
And he answered it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gets more lemonade*


	5. Azure Towers Part 2: Three-way...Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus answers a voice call. Shepard argues with her former self. And we all get mushy feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Recommended Listening:** "Telephone" by Lady Gaga and Beyonce! Duh!
> 
> Side note: I'm I the only one who's had a guy do this to them in real life? Yes? Ok.

 

As if he wasn’t otherwise busy, Garrus sat up on his knees and tapped the audio only answer button on his omnitool and one of the top five worst possible voices came out of it.

 

_< <Hey, Garrus?>>_   
  


The turian looked down at Shepard with Loki’s own face. "Oh, hello Joker! How's it going?"

She silently shrieked back at him with crazy eyes, but Garrus stayed cool as could be.

Also, he didn't stop moving.  
  


_< <We're alright, but we can't seem to get a hold of Shepard. Have you seen her?>>_   
  


She started shaking her head in horror but his mandibles started clicking with sinister delight.  
  


"Actually!"  The otherwise free hand slapped back down on Shepard’s hip bone and pulled her in tight.  "I'm with her right now." He locked blue eyes with grey ones and slammed her again.  "Did you want to talk to her?"

Shepard mouthed a wide and silent, "What the fu-" but they both cut her off.  
  


_< <Yeah!  That'd be great!  Thanks man!>>_   
  


Garrus fully sheathed himself and stayed there.  "No problem, just a second."  
  


She watched him tap the mute button as he leaned over her, extending his arm in front of her face and hissed in her ear with pure evil.  
"It's for you...Commander.  Play nice."

Shepard bit her lip, holding back both a moan and a curse, then reluctantly unmuted the com.   Garrus doubled down.

"Joker.  You... wanted to... uh.. mm.. talk to me?"

_Oh my GOD he's a dick._   
  


_< <Yeah.... We were just wondering where you were.  We're supposed to take off in 10 minutes.  At least, that's what my notes say.  Was I wrong?>>_ 

Shit.

"Oh, right, sorry.  Some....hm! Something's come up.  We have…have to stay for... another two…”  Garrus punched her with his pelvis with an angry snort.  “THREE days,” She corrected.  “Maybe m-more!  Play it by ear?"

_< <Oooh... kay...>>_   
  


Long pause.    
  
Shepard muted the com and took the time to hate herself.  This was the most unprofessional thing possible, and yet, here she was secretly liking it.  Her face buried itself into the fat cushion both in shame and to stifle a particularly loud moan.  Maybe if she gave some orders Joker would leave her alone.

  
Unmute.

  
"Yeah.  Just tell… tell the crew that... Unexpected shore leave!  Yeah!  Go enjoy it everyone!”

Garrus rolled a long, quiet growl. “I know I am,” he whispered in her ear before licking up the back of it with the point of his tongue.  Shepard promptly swatted and shushed him.    
“Even you Joker.  Go.. hmph.. go get a date or something!"

_  
< <I'll keep that in mind...>>_ 

  
Shepard’s eyes darted from side to side for a second, pleading that she was in the clear.  
"Okay!  Good talk-"

  _< <Hey Commander?>>_

 eye roll

 "Yes?"

_  
< <What is your location?  EDI wants to know.>>_

  
Shepard looked at the long fringe and thick crest behind her that was vibrating her spine with evil laughter too low for human ears.  
"Umm.... Joker, you know I don't do this often but…”  He plowed her again.  “Oh!  Yeah.  That's classified."

__  
< <Reeeally? Huh, but Garrus is with you?>>  
  


Shepard, despite her quickly fading brain power, saw an opportunity and seized it.

"Well...yes.  Tried to lose him but he - er- _insisted_.”  Garrus looked up and she shot him a wink.  “Said I needed some… _backup_."

Shepard grinned and muted the call the second the word left her lips, just in case. 

Good thing too because Garrus let out a crazy, roaring, guttural snarl right into her ear and grazed his teeth along the skin of her neck.  It turned her bones to mush except for her toes that inexplicably curled.  
  


Then Joker kept talking.  
  


"Come on Shep…"  Garrus stuck his right-most finger in her mouth then started to poke…something else.  "Get _rid_ of this guy."

She gasped then mustered a hard frown.  "You're the one who answered the call, jackass!"

_< <Say, uh Commander... What are you and Vakarian doing exactly? I'm getting some weird static on my end. >>  
_

She unmuted the com.

"Nothing…"   
Garrus pulled out, with both appendages, then started knocking on her other entrance.    
It made Shepard's voice crack.  
"IT’S IMPORTANT THOUGH!  Yes!  Very important."

Great.  Now the other fingers had gotten involved in her personal favorite places.   
She swallowed thickly.  He did learn quick…

"Also Classified."  She barely eked out as Garrus's ridged member went deeper.   "The mission that is.  You know... overall."  She muted for a second to pant.  "Training now though."  
  


_< <Training huh?  What kind of training?  Let me guess... classified?>>_   
  


_Fuuuck._   
  


"No, just... shooting guns, sparring, typical stuff.  But using Spector resources though so..."  
Her eyes rolled back as he started slowly thrusting.  A thick thumb pad was rubbing her nerve cluster, but the finger was inside was pressing against the back wall and pinching her closer to him.  It was almost more than Shepard could take.

Mute.

"Oh my GOD your mean!"  
The response was in time with his movements.  
"Get. _rid_. of. him."  
"UGH!"

Unmute  
  


"Is there anything else Joker?!"

_< <Maybe, hang on a sec.>>_   
  


Mute.   But this time, Garrus did it.

Without any warning whatsoever, the omnitool hand snapped over her throat and Garrus put all his weight into her.  His teeth gripped her shoulder and three thrusts later they both just shattered.  They'd both been teetering on the edge of climax for so long that when it finally hit they forgot how to breathe.  Except maybe Garrus who was keening and whining so loud Shepard could almost swear he was crying.

_  
< <Commander?  Still there?>>_

  
Shepard swatted back weakly and groaned an order. "Shhhh... Quiet!" 

Unmute.

"Yeah,” she gasped without composure.  “I'm here."

_< <See ya Monday.>>_

She smiled and sighed in relief.  "Sounds great... Call if there's blood."

_< <Aye ye Commander.>>_

_Click_.

 

Shepard's knees fell open and they both were supported by the overstuffed pillow alone.  Shepard didn't know it was possible for her spinal cord to orgasm, but that is exactly what it felt like.  
  


"Think he knows?" Shepard asked boneless.

"Oh yeah," Garrus groaned as he pulled out, just as weak, and reached for the cleanest towel.  "I think he knows."

"…Peachy…"

 

They both let their bodies go and took a much needed nap.

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Joker's genuine worry evaporated as soon as he heard Garrus say Shepard was ok, but the Commander had been on the phone for all of two seconds before he muted the call and started waving wildly at Jacob to get him in there too.  Zaheed heard the commotion while passing through and joined them, just to see what all the fuss was about.

It wasn't long before all three of them were in tears.

 

_< <We...have to stay for... another two- (ow!) THREE days!  Maybe more.  Better play it by ear.>>_

"Ohhh... kay..."

   
Mute.  
 

Joker turned to his male companions.  "So… They're totally boning, right?" 

Zaheed stroked his chin.  "I dunno.  Always knew that broad was trouble on legs, but didn't think the cuttlebone had it in ‘im."

Jacob shook his head over crossed arms.  "Joker, it's not that I think you're wrong, I just really don't want you to be right."

Joker gestured to the man.  "Dude.  They've GOTTA be!  Here watch this..."  
  


Unmute  
 

"So, uh, what are your orders ma’am?"  
  


Mute  
  


_< <Yeah just tell.. tell the crew that... Unexpected shore leave!  Yeah!  Go enjoy it everyone.  (gggrrrrrr I am.  Shh!)>>_   
  


"There!"  Joker declared triumphantly.  "You all heard that, right?  It's not just me?  Tell me it's not just me."  
  
Zaheed cackled and slapped his leg.  "Well, I'll be damned!  Boy's gotta scrot after all!"

"RIGHT?"  Joker said grinning as he spun around. "Fucking FINALLY!  Jesus, I thought we'd all die of old age before that idiot made a move!"  
  


_< <Even you Joker.  Go.. hmph.. go get a date or something." >>_   
  


Joker rolled his eyes as the other two men held in laughter.  "Oh,for Christ's sake. Yeah,"  
Unmute.  
"I'll keep that in mind..."  
Mute  
"... bitch."

"I can't believe this!"  Jacob said with exasperated arm motions.  "Cerberus spends billions of credits to bring Shepard back, and she almost immediately starts shaking up with an alien!"

"HA!"  Zaheed barked.  "I'm sensin’ a little bitta hurt feelings, eh Jacob?"

The dark skinned man looked away as if to refute, but ended up screaming a confession with his eyes.  It made Joker laugh.  
"Hate to break it to you man, but you never had a chance."

Jacob scoffed with an reflexive look at his abs. "What? Why not?"

The pilot shrugged wide with a sorry-not-sorry smile.  "Chicks or aliens dude.  Don't ask me why."

Jacob looked like he was going to say something mean, but got devilish instead.  
"Let's mess with em"

Joker stroked his beard.  "Oh, I like the way you think man!"

"Oi, Joka.  Keep her talkin’.  See how long the scarred prick can hold out."

"Alright," He smirked.  “I’m good at talking.”  
  


_< <Ok. Good t->>_   
  


Unmute  
  


"Hey Commander?"

Mute  
Joker was grinning like a high school senior on prank day.  "What should I say?!"  
Zaheed tipped his chin.  "Ask her where she is."  
"Nice!"

_< <Yes. Joker? >>  
_

Unmute

"What's your location?"  Zaheed pointed to EDI's bubble and Joker nodded.  "EDI wants to know."

Mute  
  


_< <"Umm.... Joker, you know I don't do this often but…  Oh!  Yeah.  That's classified.">>_   
  


They all burst out laughing and Jacob shut the cockpit off so they wouldn’t draw a bigger crowd.

Unmute

"Reeeally?  Huh…"  Joker held in the laughter.  "But Garrus is with you?"

Mute

_< <"Well...yes.  Tried to lose him but he - er- insisted.  Said I needed some backup.">>_

They all doubled over.  Jacob pretended like he was going to gag, but Zaheed had to hold onto Joker's chair just to keep from falling on the floor.

"Oi, thousand cred says he's actually backing her up."  
"Like on all fours?  Shep?"  Joker almost cringed at his own mental image then shook it away.  "Nah, I know better than to take that bet.  You're probably right."  
The old merc called over Joker’s head.  "Taylor?  You want in?"  
He shook his head aggressively "No thanks.  Besides, you can’t prove it anyway…."  
“I can access Officer Vakarian's visor camera, if you would like me too.”  EDI chimed in almost amused.

They thought about it for a second, but ultimately decided to not.

Unmute

"Say, uh Commander" Joker held in a giggle he hoped she wouldn't it.   "What are you and Vakarian doing exactly?  I'm getting some weird static on my end."

Mute, almost too late.

"Oh my god this is too much!” he heaved into his hat.  “I can't believe she hasn't hung up yet!"  
"And I can't believe the boy's still going…"  Zaheed droned almost impressed with a glance at his omnitool timer.  "He was already in before we even called 'im."

_< <Nothing…….._ _"_ _IMPORTANT though.  Yes.  Very important." >>_

The men exchanged almost horrified glances.  That voice crack was something women only did if one very specific thing was happening.

"Well," Jacob said with a shrug.  "They always said aliens were into probing…"  
  


They died.

 

_< <_ _"Training now though." >>_

 

Joker waved everyone quiet.

Unmute.

"Training huh?  What kind of training?  Let me guess... _classified_?"

Now the mute was absolutely too late.  If Shepard had been thinking at all straight, she would have caught his meaning.  The fact that she didn't spoke volumes.    
  
Shepard said something else but none of them cared to hear it.  They were roaring with laughter so loud that several other crew members, led by Jack, broke in anyway.

"What the hell is so funny?"  she half yelled at them with almost half the Cerberus crew standing behind her.  
"Vakarian made the Commander talk to Joker while he stuck it in her ass."  Zaheed so eloquently put it.  
The crew gasped, and Jack's jaw dropped while she grinned.  
"Seriously?  Wannabe Batman and Shep?"  
"Believe me," Jacob groaned.  "I wish he was wrong."

_< <Is there anything else Joker?>>_

Unmute.

"Maybe, hold on a sec."

Joker muted again and spun around with a smirk. 

"Hear it?"  
"All the alien grunting in the background?"  Jack snarked as she settled back with folded arms.  "Yeah, I hear it.  I just can't believe Shep went for it."  
  
Joker almost laughed in her face.  "Oh, trust me, it's a long time coming.  But honestly?  I'm happy.  Maybe they'll finally work it out and get back to doing their jobs…  You know, stop all the disgusting, thinly veiled flirting?"

Everyone but Jack rolled their eyes, but she looked around confused.  
“What the hell!  Everyone knew about this but me?"  
"That's whatcha get for hidin' in the basement all day…"  Zaheed shot back. 

"Okay," Joker addressed the crowd with a clap of his hands.  "We all get shore leave until they're done with each other.  But, if we over shoot it, Shep will either get pissed off or run away and elope with a turian.  So, question is, how long do you guys think two super soldiers can screw each other if they’re not interrupted?"

"Pfftt…." Jack huffed rubbing hands on her pants.  "Probably forever.  Let's just leave them."

"Give them the weekend," an Australian voice said coolly from the back of the crowd.  The crew members parted like the red sea and revealed Miranda who wasn't even looking up from her data pad.

"Lawson?"  Joker asked cautiously as everyone started to disperse.  "Are you sure?"

She looked up with blank professionalism.  "It's like you said Joker, give them time to work things out and maybe they will be able to focus on the mission from now on."

"Aye aye ma’am" Joker ended with a salute as he turned around.

 

Unmute.

"Commander?  Still there?"

A beat of pause.

_< <Yeah…(huff puff)….I'm here.>>_

See ya Monday.

_< <Sounds great... Call if there's blood.>>_

"Aye Aye Commander…"

_Click_

 

"At least twenty-eight minutes," Zaheed mumbled while looking at his omnitool before closing it in a huff.

"Three balled bastard…"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Shepard woke to lots trilling, purring and licking.

 

"Someone's in a good mood,” she cooed with a smile.  
"Yeah, it's just... The whole weekend?  You promise?"   
  
The half sentence was broken up with a flurry of Turian kisses and she grinned into the pillow.  It was the second time Garrus had tried to talk over an uncontrollable purr and it was hilarious.  Something in the back of Shepard’s mind told her this wasn't going to get old any time soon.

"Let me guess, zero percent chance we leave the suite this weekend?"  
"Mmm..."  Was he smelling her hair?  "I'm game if you are."  
Garrus couldn't see it, but Shepard's face split into the most evil looking smile she'd made since her gang days.  
"Yeah....  challenge accepted."  
His whole body tensed and shook with a xenomorph-sounding growl and Shepard had a feeling he was making the same face she was.

In a whirl of purple light and worrisome couch creaking Garrus snatched her up and threw their still naked bodies backwards.  Shepard's chest collided with his rock-solid keel bone forcing out a less than graceful "Ooof" and python like arms constricted around her body, squeezing most of the remaining air out of her lungs.  
Semi stunned, Shepard pounded her fist on his shoulder until he let go and she gasped for air.

"Jesus!  Pace yourself man!  Not all of us have a carapace."

"Oops.  Sorry. "

She rolled her eyes, laughed silently, and swayed her head from side to side.  His mandibles were pulled completely tight against his face and she was pretty sure if he had the ability to blush, he would have.  Although, his neck did look a little bluer.

Mentally, she kicked herself.  It was easy to forget but this guy was such a dork and, unfortunately, it was so stupidly cute she couldn't stay mad at him.  He could bite off her trigger finger but if it was followed up with that face she'd probably just slap him on the wrist and make him sew it back on.

"Oh stop... I'm fine.  Although, it _would_ be embarrassing if you suffocated me.  Very hard to explain." 

Garrus snorted a chuckle and loosened up.  "With my luck, I'd know the arresting officer.  Oh, hi Bailey!  Long time, no see.  Sorry for killing Spector Shepard mid-coitus, can you let me off with a warning?"

Shepard collapsed, her gut doubled over, and she laughed so hard the only sound that came out was a very unladylike snort, followed by a sheepish squeak, which made the whole situation worse.  Still in convulsions, she buried her face in his chest to hide the almost record setting blush.

_Oh God, just kill me now._

"There is a human saying, 'Never meet your heroes,' I think."  Garrus spoke clearly and seriously.  "Is that correct?"

She took a couple calming breaths and gathered herself before answering.

"Yeah... That's right.  What about it?"

His expression was of pure calm, his eyes like the surface of a lake on a cold, clear morning, and his voice was like a trickle of water over smooth stones.  It almost took her breath away all over again.

"It's a warning, isn’t it?  It means that the person you put on pedestal, or at least the version of them you see in your mind, is nothing like reality?"

Shepard blinked rapidly, mouth twisted to one side, truly confused.  Where was he going with this?  
"Umm...  More or less?  Why? "  
Garrus's head tilted ever so slightly to one side.  
"Then what happens when, instead of being disappointed, your hero turns out that to be everything that you ever hoped she would be?"

Wait.

Did he just say... _she?_

 

Shepard bit her lower lip and looked down, hiding her face as much as she could without actively running away.  What do you say to that?  What _can_ you say?  Do you break the illusion and tell the truth?   Show your flaws and admit to being a normal person, or do you allow their dilution to continue in a strange, twisted act of mercy?  Maybe you just deflect, change the subject, turn hard left and abandon the subject for another day.  That had been Shepard's standard procedure for most of her life but now, here, with him?  A guy who held the world's greatest poker face every single day for three years?  Deflecting would be like spitting in his face.

His really handsome face.  Scars or no scars, she would like to see it again.

Maybe that was the answer.  Even with half of it bandaged and blown off, she still thought his face was one of the best in the galaxy.  She could be a breath away from mass murder via white phosphorus and arson, but one look from him could cool her Ruby Red rage back down to barely a simmer.  If she could still see him like that, even when his faults were on full display, maybe he could do the same for her.

I mean... did she trust him or not?

 

Eventually, her voice came out and barely more than a whisper.  
"Garrus...  I'm... I'm not perfect.  Pretty far from it actually."  
A soft hand brushed through her red curls.  
"I never said you were.  But you _are_ every bit the woman I hoped you would be."

Somehow, Shepard curled up even smaller, but a warm hand like a thick, perfectly worn deerskin glove cupped the side of her face and lifted her head up... even if she did resist a bit.  Halfway through the action, she almost pulled herself away to run, to hide, to do anything but look him in the eye, but she didn't.  Shepard wasn't tearing up or anything - at least not quite yet - just ashamed and feeling completely undeserving of his incredibly high praise; but even as broken as she felt at that moment, he cooled her down all the same. 

Ruby, angry in the back of her mind, voiced her fire-drenched opinion for the first time since she got here.

_"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT WOMAN!!  You fear NOTHING!  You'd take on a REAPER with nothing but your TEETH and not only would you live, but you'd come out spitting nuts bolts out of spite!  So, riddle me this, bitch.   Why are you letting one dorky, delusional, gator-faced FANBOY make you act a fool?!  Slap him!  Fight him!  Fuck. Him. Up!"_  
_"No."_  
_"Fuck you mean no!  Gut em, take his teeth, make yo self a sick pair a heels, and get the FUCK back to WORK!"_  
_"I like him."_  
_"Do you even know what one night stand means?  Look, I'm all for a three day/four night sex fest but YOU gotta get a grip."_  
_"No."_  
_"ah-"  
_ _"Shut. Up."_

When her gaze fully lifted, Ruby was long gone.  In her place was a woman with no name, no voices in her head, no troops to command, no Reapers to fight, just a blank slate that wanted one thing and one only: To be clay in this turian's hands and become everything and anything he wanted her to be.

Something... unexplainable happened when their eyes met.  Time stopped.  All the air sucked out of the room and every wall between them dissolved into silence.  Like two sides of the same coin finally meeting face-to-face, the wildly different person in front of them reflected the one viewing it.  Whether the color of millennia old ice or fire forged steel, their polished orbs became both portals and mirrors - forever repeating an infinite expanse of silver-backed glass.  Race, color, past, future, culture, language, planet... none of it mattered anymore.  Shepard needed him like a fish needs water, and she was a dream-made-flesh Garrus would die for a thousand times.  
  


Eventually, someone blinked and time started again.  Distant sounds of the lively wards below trickled into their ears, quietly bringing them back to reality as if waking naturally from a dreamless sleep.  
 

For the first time ever, Garrus reached up and took off his visor, blindly setting it down on the ottoman beside them.  It was strange, at least at first, but she quickly grew to appreciate the view.  Funny how something so simple can transform a deadly sniper super soldier to a normal man who seemed vaguely...vulnerable.

What the gesture really meant, is that Garrus let go.  He wasn't concerned with kill counts or heart rates or possible threats anymore, just her.  
  


Against his better judgment, Garrus ran his thumb along the hidden bone under Shepard’s silken cheek.  Funny, all the explicit things they'd done to each other in this place had been so easy to justify, but that simple touch was absolutely nerve wracking.  Though his previous words were very carefully picked, they still feel out of his mouth sooner than he hoped.  He didn't have a follow-up, unless you count opening the flood gates and letting all the sappy, flowery, L-shaped words in his gizzard gush out like sparkling pink vomit.  He wanted to, _SPIRITS_ did he want to, but he couldn't.  Not yet.  To him this night had been three years in the making, but to her it had been less than a day.  
Much like the two years she lost.  
That they both lost.

She must have seen it in him, because she spoke first.

"I don't know what you call that Garrus.... but I would love to find out."

Pushed forward by some invisible force he didn't understand, Garrus pulled them together and kissed Shepard like he meant it. 

Her tongue was so alien; red, short, wet, covered in tiny bumps.  It could even contort into different shapes at her slightest whim.  It was different, strange even, but he wrapped his long blue version around it and pulled like it hurt to let go.  Soft hands full of (what had to be) a dozen little fingers slipped behind his neck.  The feeling made his skin prickle with tiny sparks and even the thickest of his back plates stood on end.  It begged the question: Did her biotics cause that, or did he do it on his own?

She whispered a moan into his mouth and the thought fell away.  He didn't care anymore.  It didn't matter.  He was addicted and never wanted to be cured.  
  


Right when he felt the all too familiar pressure build in his groin, she pulled away!  He whimpered a little, then immediately cursed himself.   
 _Did she have some hidden, alien venom or something?  Half drell maybe?  Spirits, what was happening...?_

"I know,” Shepard sighed.  “Believe me, I know and I'm sorry, but we have to be adults for a second."

_Great, she's a Turian-fluent mind reader too?  That's unfortunate.  Fuck it.  Get her back here._

"I don't know,” he smirked.  “This all seems pretty adult to me." 

Garrus tried to pull her back into the kiss, but she pushed him away again!  This time, the curse and the whimpered fused together, brought frustration with them, and came out as a growl.

She huffed as if pained.  "Oh no, please don't do that..."

_Really?  That is... good to know._

He growled even louder and lower than before to test his newfound theory, and was immediately rewarded with the thick, sweet smell of her body caving to the will of his new dependency.  Be it a drug, a venom, a toxin, or whatever other form of chemical weaponry this woman had, he didn't know.  Whatever it was, he needed more of it and to deny him would be...upsetting.

She pressed her smooth head to his crest and hummed a tiny note to plead with him.  He cooled his blood enough to listen, but didn't stop the flicked mandible of annoyance.

"Look,” she begged.  “We've been at this for hours.  Don't worry, I could keep going, but we've got a problem.”  
"Ok,” he groaned.  “What is it?"  
Shepard sighed, and turned back into the Commander.  
"I only booked this place for one night.  Any minute now they're going to knock on the door and kick us out unless I call downstairs and extend it.  Also, we haven't eaten, slept, or showered since....?"  
"Before the bar which was.... oh."  
"Yeah, forever ago.  Let's try not kill ourselves in here, shall we.  However, I can think of worse ways to go."  
Garrus chuckled to himself as the remembered the councilor’s words.  "Says the undead Specter."  
"You know me, I like to go out with a bang."

That wicked smirk of hers always hit him like a spike between the eyes.  Spirits help him Garrus wanted her so bad, but she was right.  They should at least make it to the bed.  
"I won't allow you to die again Shepard,” he teased back.  “But the bang, I can guarantee."

She shoved his shoulder.  
"Alright, alright, _enough!_   Come on, divide and conquer time."

 

With that, Shepard stood up and walked over to the small table next to the perfectly untouched bed.  A blue datapad emerged from a drawer and she walked back halfway before tossing it over, which forced him to sit up and catch it.  
  


"I've gotta get this makeup off.  My eyes are killing me.  So, while I'm doing that and calling the front desk, you order us some food.  Rendezvous in the shower when we're done.  Deal?"  
He grinned.  
"Aye ye Commander."|  
"Oh don't even start with that 'Commander' nonsense."  
"What?" Garrus sat back with hands over the back of the couch and gestured to her with his chin.  "I kind of like this bedroom military thing you're doing."    
Shepard rolled her eyes.  "Of _course_ you do…  How am I not surprised?"

She rested one hand on her cocked hip and pinched her brow with another.  It was a pose Garrus had seen her make a hundred times before, but never naked.  Secretly, he wished that the visor was still on so he could take a picture, but in its absence, he took the old fashioned route:  Get comfortable and burn her every detail into your brain.  From now on, whenever she struck that stance, this is what he would see.  
But, she caught him.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."  
"I would," Garrus teased.  "But my visor is over there and picking it up would have been too obvious."  
  
He pointed vaguely to the eye piece.  Shepard's world stopped on a dime.  
  
"Hold up, there's a _camera_ on that thing??"  
Garrus caught her tone and tried to look innocent.  "Umm.... no?"  
"Christ." Red curls and cut arms dropped limply in place. "Welp, there goes my reputation..."  
"Hardly," he tried to tease while turning on the data pad.  "Now, what did you want to eat?  Or, since you seem to like Turian food, should I just order two of whatever I'm having?"  
She sneered.  "Ha ha.  Very funny Vakarian.  I'll have you know that, even though I _can_ eat what you do, I _will_ still starve to death while doing so."  
"Alright," he shrugged.  "But I don't know the first thing about human food so..."  
  
She waved a dismissive hand and turned towards the bathroom, but stopped when she saw the clock.  He heard her curse then mumble something to herself before looking back at him.  
"At this point, I don't care what you get me as long as it's from Earth, warm, and there's a lot of it.  Preferably American.  If you have any questions, just yell."

Then she flicked left and disappeared down the bathroom hall.  Garrus laughed to himself and called back to her.

"Is this your way of asking me to buy you dinner first?"  
"Something like that."

The door shut.  He waited a beat.  The water turned on.

Taking that as his cue, Garrus grabbed a pillow, pressed it over his mouth and screamed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww! Isn't he cute?
> 
> By the way, this way going to be five chapters, but a few of these were long(er) so I cut them up.


	6. Azure Towers Part 3: Inside thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus's inner monologue starting from the moment he allows himself to admit he has feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Recommended Listening:** "Trumpets" by Jason Derulo  
> 

\--Garrus--

 

I held it in.

   
I held in for three years.  
 

I held it in when I saw her for the first time in Citadel Tower.  I held it in when she agreed to take me with her in that clinic.  Through every day, every battle, every floozy date I watched her take upstairs, and even when she started a relationship with Liara, I held it ALL in.

When I told her goodbye and went back to C-Sec, I didn't waver.  I just got to work and waited, because I am a sniper and I am forever patient.  
 

Then she died, and everything got so much worse.  
 

The pain of holding it in made me angry, violent, and I allowed everything else in my life to burn to the ground if that's what it took to hold my poker face.  
 

I went to her funeral, but I said nothing.  Not even to myself. 

I refused to admit that I was even holding anything back in the first place.  I threw myself into any bad idea or distraction I could possibly find to keep up my denial.  
 

And it cost ten good people their lives....  
 

Then, by the grace of some Spirit I'll never be able to repay, she came back to me right when I needed her the most.

I was grateful, calmer, but _still_ I held it in.

 

The days since have been both easier and harder, but I never let up.  I held firm, even when she was crying on my shoulder because she felt so alone.  Looking back though, that was stupid.  
 

Last night at the bar was my first hairline crack.  Hearing others admit what I had been too afraid to lessened the building pressure in my chest, but the only thing I let go was a little bit of steam.  
 

Even when she kissed Spartacus.

Or touched Oraka.

Or openly and shamelessly hit on Tarquin in front of me, I gave away nothing.

  
However, now, I could no longer hold it in.  
 

I did it.  Well, _we_ did it…in more ways than one.  No more waiting, no more doubt.  She was here, with me, and not as a friend.   
  
She was...with me.

  
As soon as I was sure she was out of earshot, I grabbed a pillow and screamed three years of pain and repression into it as I finally allowed myself to feel.  It wasn't enough, but it was a damn good start.  
  
 

I love her.  I love her so much it hurts.  I have dreamed about being with her like this every second of every day and, for once, reality was better than fantasy.  
 

I love her. She's everything I ever wanted, whether I knew it or not beforehand.  I don't just love the bed sport (which is ten times better than even my wildest hopes), but I love...this.  Yelling jokes across the room at each other, ordering food, taking phone calls, just living a normal life and knowing a kiss and smile was waiting just around the corner.  
 

I love how she looks at me and sees a person, not a creature.  It's the same way I've always looked at her.  I love how we can acknowledge each other's differences but laugh and embrace them instead those facts of driving us further apart.

I love how I'm not allergic to her, or her to me.

Unless this is all some terrible levo-dextro allergic reaction... but if it is, then fine.  

 

Anaphylaxis doesn't scare me.

She already takes my breath away.

 

I love how she fights.  She moves and commands like she was born on the front lines of the darkest battle of the Krogan Rebellion.  Oraka was right, she is a super nova.  A giant, untamed, raging ball of red fire, soaked in spite, rolled in grit, covered with blood, reinforced by steel, wrapped up in silk, stuffed inside armor, and given a heart of gold.   Then, at some point, somebody handed her a gun and taught her how to use it.  Heh…and people wonder why she's trouble.  Her hair looks like solid strands of human blood!  That's not a style choice, it's a clear and unmistakable warning.

 

I love her hair.

I love her naked body too, I can't deny that at all.  Yes, she's human and my people and hers have never really gotten along...

...Spirits save me.  Father's going to kill me.

Whatever.  Let him bitch and moan about all the "perfectly good mates" he sent my direction, I don't WANT them!  I want soft silky skin stretched tight over sculpted, oh so flexible muscles.  I want rock hard bones you can't see, only feel.  I want strong, curvy hips I can grab like handles and a backside like two giant, leather-wrapped rocks until you slam into it... then it ripples and you know it's made of meat.  It's like staring and two of the biggest, thickest, juiciest, most impossibly delicious steaks I've ever seen and they make me so hungry my brain breaks and I can't decide if I want to fuck them or eat them.

Ggggrrrraaaaaahhhh!  I want her so bad!  
  
 

I know, we'll run for it.  Fuck everyone else with their stupid errands, meetings, orders, expectations and red tape.  Fuck the Geth.  Fuck the Collectors.  And you know what?  Fuck the Reapers too.  Let someone else storm Hell's gates and save the galaxy for a change!

   
As for me and Shepard, we'll get some body doubles, fake some evidence, blow something up, steal a ship and fly away.  Everyone will think we're dead and we'll finally be free.  We'll land on some abandoned planet out it the Terminus and live out our lives in the desert somewhere!

 

No, humans hate deserts. 

 

A beach then!  Yeah... some tropical part of a garden planet with deliciously warm sand and zero signs of intelligent  life for at least a dozen parsecs.  We'll build a little shelter, breathe real air, bask in real sunlight, and after a long day of hunting we'll roll around in the sand all night.

Oh, we won't bring clothes.  Maybe some armor, but mostly tools and guns.  
 

Over time, the husk of our stolen spacecraft will sink into the ground and become one with the planet.  We'll take it apart and put it back together until we finally turn it into our forever home.  Once we're all settled in, I'll give her the proudest, most gruesome bond mark anyone's ever seen (assuming I haven't already) and we'll have, like, a hundred kids.  Just crank 'em out until the planet's overrun with red-blooded, blue-plated, human-turian hybrids with Spirits only know how many toes.

 

"Hey, did you order anything yet?"

"Um... no.  Sorry.  I'll get right on that."

"You ok?  You look a little out of it." 

"Yeah.  Just... I must be a little more tired than I thought."

"Figured you might be.  Want some help?"

She's right there.  The future mother of our hybrid army... and she's wearing nothing but a smile and that fuzzy robe I unwrapped last night. 

 I _LOVE_ her so, so badly.

But she's hungry.  Get a grip and take care of your woman Vakarian!

 

I looked down at the datapad.

  
 

"Maybe.  What is pasta?  Do you like it?" 

"OH MY GOD PASTA SOUNDS SOOO GOOD!"

Heh, look at her moan at the thought of food.  My little biotic commando.

 

"You know what, I changed my mind.  I know what I want." 

She took the data pad from me and flipped through the menus with lightning precision, eyes lighting up when she found what she was looking for.

"There we go!  And they deliver?  Yesss!"

She put the datapad back in my hands.

"I've already added my stuff, but we can change restaurants if you don't see anything you like."

I looked down and... yeah, I knew this one.  
 

"No need.  I'm pretty sure I've eaten at every dextro and dextro/levo place on the Citadel.  I'll find something and get it sent over right away." 

"Sounds great.  Thank you!"

Just as I had hoped, a happy smile and a kiss on my crest.  Oh, some things are worth waiting for.

 

"Now, shower time.  Yay!  Come join me when you're done!"

 

She turned on her toes and practically skipped away.  On anyone else, that hotel garment would have been terribly unflattering, but on Shepard...

The rope holding it in place was pulled tight around her little, muscle bound waist, and even though the fabric was thick and fuzzy, I could still see those hips swish from side to side.

 

 I absent-mindedly ordered something, clicked send, half bolted to the shower.

 

Know what?  Let's make it two hundred kids.

 

"Hey!  Look who's up!"

 

I hadn't paid too much attention to the bathroom last time, but upon further inspection it was actually pretty nice.  Smallish, not a lot of floor space, but a decent shower.  Half a room deep, full width, polished and triple sealed tile walls, glass doors from floor to ceiling. 

Hmm... laminated plate glass.  Tisk tisk.  Too much of a liability.  They would have to be swapped for military grade sapphire, at least three centimeters thick.  Strong enough to withstand any rockets fired through the window back there. 

... Also strong enough to contain two, lust crazed super soldiers, which might be a more impressive feat.  
  


"Oh, wow.  Note to self.  Never let your Garrus get hungry."  
  


That got my attention.

"...YOUR Garrus?"  
  


Look at her.  Hair all limp and stringy and stuck to her bare face.  Guess human face paint easily washes off with soap.  She must have to apply it every single day.  Explains why she often doesn't.  That makes a lot more sense now....  
  
I prefer her with it, but it's ok.  Out on the beach she can paint her face with blood and dirt instead.  
  


"Well... yeah!  There may be thousands of other Garruses out there, but this one..." She grabbed my hand. "... is MINE."  
  


Then she pulled, hard, and I almost fell into the steaming shower, tripping over her sparkling, happy, playful eyes.  
  


She said I'm hers.

If only she knew how much that means to me.  I know it was just a play on a human military rhyme about guns, but still.  I wanted to believe it so badly.  Maybe, just maybe, I could tell her.  Maybe there's a tiny chance she wouldn't run away screaming...

 

"Oh really?  You promise?"

I wrapped my arms around her tiny frame and tried to sound like I was joking, not begging and desperate like I really felt.  Hopefully it worked.  I don't have much faith though.  The sound of my own pulse was too loud.

"Maybe...." she had to stand on her toes just to reach my cowl.  How did the maker fit so much person into such a tiny body?  "You are the only Garrus I know, and you are on my ship, and I _think_ I'm still your CO...at least on paper."

My chest started humming.  I couldn't stop it.

"So, unless you're hiding something from me... or someone..."

I shook my head, but only barely.

This isn't a dream, right?  I've seen so many versions of this in my sleep, I was starting to have my doubts that any of this was real.

"Then... Yes, I guess your mine now.  Wanna fight about it?"

"Not even a little bit..."  
  


It felt like my chest exploded.  I picked her up, pushed her back up against the tile wall and stuck my tongue down her throat.  As if she was made for it she wrapped her legs around my waist and hung on for dear life.  
  
  


By the way, wet human skin feels... amazing.  Especially when you don't have any hot water restrictions.  By the time we were done, the whole suite was fogged up and I had somehow managed to leave three long gashes in the tile.

 

"Don't clean that up," I ordered as I grabbed a towel and shut the water off.

 

Commander Shepard was moaning, squirming, and lying in a ball on the floor....because of me.  


 

One kid down, two-hundred ninety-nine more to go.  


 

  
Maybe.

 

 

I can dream.


	7. Azure Towers Part 4: Birthday Suit

When Shepard emerged from the bathroom, Garrus kept blinking at her

"Are... Are you serious?"  
"Huh?"  
"Shepard.  There is a towel on your head."  
"Yes?"  
" _Why_ is there a towel on your head?"  
"Is-Is that not obvious?"  
"Clearly, the answer is no." 

Shepard looked up from tying her robe - a clean one thankfully - to appreciate the utterly puzzled expression on "her turian's" face.  He was in the middle of prepping their respective dinners, but stopped dead when she walked in to the living space.  She couldn't help but giggle to herself.

God he's cute… In his own special way.

A nearly seven-foot hulking mass of alien vigilante badass, wearing nothing but a towel, was giving her a cockeyed look that could only be described as 'perplexed hawk'.  It was like any other day on the Normandy - one where they hadn't just devoured each other for the third time in a standard cycle.  They were slipping back into their natural rhythm so easily, and Shepard loved it.

She even liked his bossiness, although she didn't quite understand why.

Shepard squeezed the towel a couple times and unwrapped it.  
"Better?"  
He nodded. "Yes.  Do all human women do that?"  
Shepard rolled her eyes.  "Wow, you are such a guy...."  
"What is that supposed to mean?!"  
"Human men ask women the same thing."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah.  They keep their hair short so they don't know the struggles of wet hair dripping in your face.  Just like you.  Meanwhile, every woman knows how to wrap their hair in a towel.  Ask Miranda or Kelly.  They'll tell you the same thing." 

Garrus paused in thought.  "Now that you mention it, I did catch Chambers leaving the bathroom very late one night.   Her head was wrapped the same way…I just forgot about it until now."

Shepard gave Garrus a strange smirk has he handed her a heaping plate of chicken fettuccini alfredo and he chuckled at her.  "Before you ask, yes, I did order you two just in case one biotic helping wasn't enough."

Her face softened and her steel blue eyes widened.  "Awww!!  Thank you!  That wasn't at all what I was thinking about, but that's so sweet!"

Garrus smoothed another towel over the bloodiest parts of the couch and flopped down with a smile.  "Well, I know it's not really a candlelit dinner or anything, but, you're welcome Shepard."

"Huh," Shepard questioned with a head tilt as she placed her shoes on the floor.  "Turians do that too?"

Garrus almost choked, but managed to save it.  They absolutely didn't.  They either took a girl home or they had a business meeting over lunch, nothing like human customs.  Customs he learned about during a bit of late night drunken research after Saren.  So, instead of giving her a straight answer, Garrus just nodded, swallowed, and deflected.  
  
"Yeah, we do.  What were you going to say before?" 

Shepard laughed and twirled her noodles.  "I was going to say that Chambers probably timed that shower on purpose."  She held her fork to her mouth.  "You know she has a crush on you right?"

Shepard ate her bite, but Garrus sat up with an undignified chirp. "She does?"  Shepard covered her mouth and nodded, but Garrus stared blankly into middle distance.  She swallowed.  "You having second thoughts about your choice of redheads Vakarian?"

He shook his head violently.   
"Spirits, no!  This is the first time I have given Chambers a second thought, ever."

Shepard threw her head back laughing.   
"Oh that's brutal!  You've just broken the poor girl's heart!"

Garrus shrugged with his hands and sipped his drink.   
"Didn't mean it to be, and I have no ill will against the woman, I'm just not into humans."

She pinched her brows together and gave him a look.   
"Um…hello?"

The towel wrapped turian chuckled and looked at her with a devilish grin.   
"Shepard, you could be an Elcor…and I'd still think about it."

She snickered and twirled another bite.   
"Oh really?  Why's that?"

"Because," Garrus tossed another thing that seemed to be a giant, fried, locust into his mouth and crunched it.  "You're Commander Shepard.  What more reason do I need?"

"Seriously?"  She spoke through her food before swallowing.  "That's it?"

Garrus huffed a laugh at himself.  "Pretty much."

"Uh-huh," Shepard hummed unconvinced.  "I don't buy it.  Not after what I've seen…and felt."  She pointed a fork at him.  "You're not just here to do a friendly favor.  You wanted this and, from what I can tell, you have for a while."  Garrus's mandibles pulled close as he picked at his food and Shepard stabbed another piece of chicken.  "So, if you're not into humans, then what is it?  My record?"

"No…" Garrus moaned and tried to find a way to not sound sappy.  "It's just…you.  We've gone through a lot and…"  He picked up another bug.  "Forgive me for liking your personality…and your service record."  He crunched the bug and Shepard shook her head in dismay.  
"Of course a service record is a turian turn on…"

"Why wouldn't it be?"  He asked mid bite.  "If you were a turian, they would make you Primarch!"  He swallowed and grinned at her devilishly.  "Also, what do you care?  Doesn't every woman dream of finding a guy who thinks their personality is sexy?  Shouldn't that earn me at least _a_ point?"

"Fair enough," Shepard grinned in defeat.  "Doesn't explain why you took a rocket for me though…"

This time, Garrus did choke.  Coughing, flanging, chest-thumping choked.  Shepard just waited and calmly devoured her meal.  This L5 was a ravenous s.o.b and, despite outward appearances, the Commander could out eat a Krogan; even without the upgrade.

"What?!"  Garrus finally sputtered.

"You heard me," she said over another forkful.  "Why'd you do it?"

The out of sync mandible twitches were all Shepard needed to see to confirm her long-standing theory.  She had pieced it together while he was still being, well, pieced back together.  Garrus was behind cover and actively jumped _out_ of it before the rocket fired.  Upon reconstructing the room in her mind, it didn't take long to figure out that the couch she, Jacob, and Zaeed where hiding behind was the real target.  Secretly, the guilt had been eating Shepard alive, and maybe now Garrus would finally admit it and give her a straight answer about why.

Heels of thick, leather hands dug into sunken eye sockets and it was almost enough to make her retract the question, but not quite.

"Because," he mumbled into his lap.  "If you thought was going to watch you die, on top of everything else…you don't know me very well."

Shepard let the palm of her own hand pull down her face too and rested her chin on it, tapping a finger on her nose in thought.  From that perspective, his reasoning made sense, but still…

"My shields were up Garrus," she mentioned quietly.  "I would have been fine, and you know that."

"Then what do you want me to say Shepard!" he groaned loudly as hands fell between knees.  "Sleep deprivation?  Metal instability?  Enough stims to make _you_ see stars?  Hell, at the time, I was still confident you were a hallucination!  I didn’t think I just…"  He trailed off with a shake of his head.  "I just…did.  And now look at me."  
  
"I am," she continued softly.  "And you know what I see?"

Garrus turned towards her just enough that she could really compare the two sides of his face without the visor in the way.  One side was the bright-eyed C-Sec cop she met all those years ago, and the other was her greatest failure…which is saying a ton.  You know, considering the things Ruby did.

"I see the most loyal friend a girl could ask for.  And, if you were an Elcor, I'd still think about it too."

Garrus looked down at his pointed feet and made that sheepish, little, flared laugh that always too her back to the com room, in the best possible way.  
  
  
Food long finished, Shepard put her plate aside, stood up, moved down the couch, sat down right beside the brutally scarred up side of his body, and wrapped her arms around it.  Just like before, Garrus effortlessly pulled her into his lap and returned the embrace as he leaned back on the couch.  His chin rested on the top of her head and a set of fingers picked their way through her messy, naturally dried hair like the tangles were fun to play with. 

They stayed there, holding each other in perfect silence, for far longer than could ever be considered platonic.  Thankfully, neither of them cared the slightest bit.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Eventually, fear made Shepard remove an arm from him.  Catching feels was not part of the plan here and she could already feel the blood soaked, needle sharp fingers of her turian killing alter-ego trying to claw her way free somewhere in the back of her skull.  The very last person who needed to meet Ruby was the man she was sitting on, or he might leave as a leather jacket and the rest of her would be powerless to stop it.

"What are up to?" he cooed happily with a half glance at her omnitool.  
"Ordering a delivery from the Normandy."  
He chuckled.  "If you're still hungry there's plenty more in the fridge."  
"I know," she said with an honest smile as some of the brain scratching faded.  "But I'm not ordering food.  
"He pressed plated lips to the top of her head.  "Then what is it?"  
"I got you a present." 

Garrus loosened his grip enough to give her a curious look.  She started to giggle at it, but bit her lips instead, fearing her next question. 

"I know you may not want to answer this, but I'm still going to ask."  
"Anything Shepard," he purred genuinely happy.  
She took a deep breath.  "How…much damage did it do?  I see the scars but…"  She looked up forcing the guilt back down.  "Does it still…hurt?" 

Bless him, Garrus tried to play it off, but Shepard saw through it clear as day.  After a few more pleading hums and nudges, he finally gave her the real report.  Pulverized shoulder, split open carapace, lacerated eye, destroyed ear, and a blown off mandible…all of which had to be repaired or replaced with cybernetics.

"Thankfully," he added with dry sarcasm.  "No nerves means no pain so…that's nice.  
  
Shepard almost cried, but managed to save it, for the time being.   
"Even your eye?"  
"No, thank every Spirit who still gives a damn.  My eye only suffered surface damage and was still fixable.  A specially formulated medigel Chakwas mixed up healed that before I woke."  
"That's a relief," Shepard swallowed.  "Your eyes are way too important to lose."  
"I agree," he purred.  "Wouldn't be able to watch your six very well without them…Hey, what's wrong?" 

Shepard's face was almost completely buried in the groove of his keel bone and her eyes were squeezed tight.  Garrus rubbed the fuzzy back of her robe and hummed that quiet, healing note she seemed to enjoy, trying to calm her.  He gently nudged the top of her head with the point of his snout but still she didn't look up, just griped him tighter.

"Shepard," he questioned in genuine concern.  "Are you…crying?"  
She nodded weak and silent.  
"Why?" he trilled softly.  
"Guilt."  
He blinked in surprise even though she couldn't see it.  
"I'm so sorry Garrus…"  
"Shepard-"  
"Don’t!" she snapped out of nowhere.  

Garrus didn't quite know what to do, especially because he couldn't see her face, so his mandibles just flipped in random directions and he waited.  Finally, she sat up, wiped her eyes on her white sleeve, and breathed herself calm.

"Don't tell me it's 'alright', when it’s not."  Her words were firm, but there was still a trembling sound behind them.  "I failed you Garrus, and now you have to pay the price for it and that's not fair.  Not at all!"

"Shepard!"  He was stunned.  "It's not your fault!  I got myself into that mess…not you. It's _my_ fault.  Without you, I wouldn't even be alive!"

Garrus paused, took a breath, and admitted something he had never told anyone.  "I…I knew I was dead the moment I saw my team…"  He cut the nasty memory short.  "I was actually on the phone with my dad when you showed up.  Apologizing for not listening to him…"

When he looked back at Shepard she was covering her face with two, white, too long sleeves and trying to not make any sound.  It was actually a little cute and his hand lifted to brush her hair on its own.

"I was saying goodbye Shepard.  When I saw your N7 crest in my scope I had probably…a few minutes left?  Maybe?  My shoulder was already torn open, my ear was already damaged, I'd run through all my medigel and most of my thermal clips…"  He moved his hand down to slowly lower one of hers and held her tiny hand in his, looking down to run a thumb pad over her numerous, little knuckles.  
"You saved my life Shepard."  He swallowed.  "Thank you."

She smiled weak and little.  "I still could have sabotaged the gunship more.  I mean… I killed the mechanic with his plasma tool, but I could have jammed it into the engine too.  Instead, I set it down on the counter and that mistake cost you half your body." 

He chuckled and kept admiring her red-tipped fingers.  "You killed him with a plasma tool?"

She snickered through a clearing sob.   
"Yeah.  Blue Sun Batarian.  Jammed it right into the back of his suit for giving me a nic fit."

Garrus looked up with a smirk.  "Did you at least say something cool?"

Shepard legitimately giggled.   
"Yeah.  Told him he was 'working too hard'.  He got out half of a 'huh' before he started screaming and dying.  It was kinda funny, you know, if I wasn't so pissed."

They were still laughing about it when the door chimed and Shepard cleared up in a joyous flash to answer it.  When she came back into view, she was dragging a heavy, rolling, black crate that was obviously made for someone twice her size.   It had a huge, gold ribbon bow tied around it.  Garrus, obviously, jumped up to help.

"Spirits Shepard!" he groaned while maneuvering the small wheels over the thick carpet.  "What is this thing?"  
"Guess!" she chirped through a toothy grin.  
"Atlas mech?" he joked before looking up.  "Always wanted one of those…"  
She rolled her eyes.  "Crap, well, I'll have to remember that for your birthday then."  
"We," he said through a huff.  "Don't celebrate…birthdays…only…service… _hrrrg!_ "  The case fell to the floor in the center of the suite.  "Anniversaries.  Damn that's heavy!"  
Shepard tilted her head.  "But you start boot camp on your fifteenth birthday so…isn't that the same thing?"  
"Almost," he said with a smile.  "Boot camp has scheduled start dates so…"  He waved the rest of it off.  "Doesn't matter.  Just know mine is August 1st.  If that matters to you."  
"Well then!"  She was beaming.  "Happy early anniversary Garrus!  Open it open it open it!!" 

Commander Shepard, the woman who conquered death and instilled fear into the galaxy's coldest hearts, was bouncing on her bare toes in excitement.  Garrus couldn't believe his eyes, but did as she said anyway.  
After all, who doesn't like presents?

He pulled the ribbon free and unclipped the hardcase's impressive latches and opened the lid just a crack, but that was enough.  He slammed the top back down again and his mandibles fell almost completely open.

"Shepard!" he nearly shouted.  "There's no way this is real, right?!"

She nodded feverishly, hands clasped together like Tali did when she was overly happy and Garrus started to think very seriously of just proposing on the spot.  Instead, he took a deep breath and opened the case all the way.

Inside was the most gorgeous, glossy, custom painted, decked out, black and gold set of full Cipritine X-49 armor Garrus had ever seen.  His whole body started to shake like a leaf out of joy and shock.

"Do you like it?"  Shepard asked with barely contained enthusiasm.

Garrus didn't answer with words.  Instead he moved like a blur and, in less than a blink, Shepard collided with yummy, warm plates and was being spun so fast her legs flew in the air behind her.

"JANE!" he screamed with cracking subvocals.  "I LOVE-!"  His jaws snapped shut. "IT!  I love it!  Spirits bless you!"  Garrus proceeded to bury his loose cannon mouth in the curve of her neck until Shepard giggled that she was getting dizzy and he set her down. 

Hands still on his cowl, all traces of former sadness gone, Shepard grinned coyly at him.  "You called me Jane.  Ha."

He coughed and, for a moment, Shepard was pretty sure she made a turian blush.   
"Sorry, but…  That is that is your name, right?  I didn't just make the galaxy's most embarrassing mistake, did I?" 

"What," she teased.  "Call out the wrong woman's name while almost naked?  HA!  No, you didn't.  But, I still prefer Shepard.  Jane is so…boring.  Never liked it."

"Really?" he trilled.  She nodded.  He shrugged.  "Ok, Shepard it is then.  That's easy."

"Thanks!  Besides, I think I'm famous enough to earn a mononym, don't you think?"  
"A what?"  
"A one word name."  
"Oh!  Yeah, definitely."  
"Cool.  Now try it on!  I wanna see!"

Garrus pulled back suspiciously.  "Wait.  Did you buy _me_ million credit armor, or _you_ million credit eye candy?"  
  
Shepard looked up in fake thought for a second.  "Can it be both?"

He glared at her disappointed, but her enthusiasm dropped zero percent.  
"Wanna know a secret?"  
  
He kept his glare, but she continued anyway with a crazy, mischievous grin.  
  
"Garrus, you're cool and all.  Really.  But… I _totally_ have a crush on Archangel."

Garrus broke.  

The man doubled over so far he had to keep a hand on Shepard's shoulder just to keep standing and laughed his blue-tinted guts out.  Wheezing, flanging, squeaking… the whole nine yards.  His fringe even spread a little wider, just a millimeter or two, but still.  Shepard didn't know it could do that.  
_"Maybe it's like wiggling your ears?  I'll have to look it up later."_  

"Of _course_ you do!" he finally gasped while bent in half.  "Because you're _insane!_ "

Shepard rolled her eyes and pulled her lips straight behind his back.  He wasn't wrong.  
"So, are you going to try it on this cycle, or should I get a stasis pod and wait for the next one?" 

Garrus, finally, put himself back together with a nod and a long inhale.  
"Alright, ok, you win Shepard.  Let me get my suit." 

"Actually, it came with one!" she added gleefully.

He snapped serious with a mandible clap against his face and turned at her.   
"Those have to be custom tailored.  How did you manage that?"

"I have my ways," she grinned wide a toothy before shooing him along.  "Go! Go! Go!  See how close I got!" 

It took a couple tries to learn the new clips and buckles, but in a few minutes lanky, dorky Garrus was transformed into the sexiest angel of death Shepard had ever seen.  It fit perfectly, like she knew it would.  Chakwas was more than willing to trade his measurements for a bottle of brandy and the promise of a favor.  God bless that woman.  
  
Garrus was still locking his gauntlets and Shepard was already mentally undressing him.   
But, something was missing…

  
"Right!" she chirped when she remembered and ran to the ottoman.  "Here, you forgot a piece!"

"Oh yeah, that old thing…" Garrus teased with a smile as he took the eyepiece from her palms and put it on.

"Well?"  he rumbled with a half pose.  "How do I look?"

Shepard's firmly bitten lip is all he needed to see, but she shoved him to the mirrored closet doors anyway.

  
"Oh… _damn!_ " Garrus purred when he saw his reflection.  He turned his visored eye towards her.  "I'd take me home."  
"Right?!"  Shepard's hands were both on her cheeks she was so happy.  "Yay!  He's back!  I missed you Archangel!  Burned out blue didn't suit you very well."  
  
Garrus sighed and looked back in the mirror.  "I liked that armor…  Too bad I'll never wear it again."  He paused, looked down, and rubbed the front of his collar.  "Shepard, did you get the Archangel crest painted on here?"  
  
"I DID!" she squealed, the complete opposite of sorry.  "And you haven't even opened the other side yet!" 

He gawked at her.    
"There's more?!"

She nodded about to burst.    
"YES!  I'm so excited!"

"You're excited?  Well, let's go see then."  
  
Garrus visibly strutted back to the living room, followed closely by a bouncing Shepard, and flipped the case over.  
  
Then, he made a sound that could only be described as "brawk".  
  
"A BLACK WIDOW TOO!?  SHEPARD!  WHA-  What did I do?!" 

He took the rifle parts out of the case like they were made of glass, but snapped them together in a flash.  Inside, Shepard was doing backflips.  Black was always her favorite color, except red of course, and seeing Garrus decked out in it from head to toe just melted her.  Forget the cost, this was better than the whole extranet's worth of porn.

Garrus pointed the new rifle out the window and Shepard had to cross her legs from the sight of it.  
"Hmm.…" he mused while aiming down the scope.  "I foresee a problem."

Shepard's heart dropped.   
"What?  What's wrong with it?" 

"With the gun?" he asked dryly.  "Oh, nothing.  It's flawless.  The problem is, now I don’t know if I want to run combat sims or slam your face into the mattress."  He lowered the weapon and turned it over in his hands.  "It's a really tough call…"

  
Shepard raised a single finger.  "May I request the ability to look at you instead of the sheets?"  
  
He nodded at the gun nonchalantly, then clipped it into the mag holster like he had owned it forever.    
  
"That can be arranged.  Go lie on your back."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

It didn't take long, but it didn't have to.  After removing the armored codpiece and dragging the human's legs over the side of the bed by her ankles, Garrus plowed Shepard in a manly fashion.  Twice.

He didn't let it show, but their shower romp was tough and had pretty much drained him dry.  However, now that he was fed, rested, clean, ironclad, and well-armed, Garrus felt like he could take on the whole damn galaxy.  The man was on such a power trip that is was difficult to tell which was more swollen, his ego, his carapace, or his cock.

The fact that he had his commanding officer's, _the_ Spector Commander Shepard's, spread bare legs in his hands was only making it worse.  Every solid hip slam made her pulled up robe open little more and Garrus made it his mission to make the whole damn thing fall off without ever touching it.  It was a quick and smashing success.

The disrobing game popped into Garrus's mind the second Shepard's head fell back with her first moan.  Bravado being what it was, a far more devious idea was executed long before it was planned.  With his mate fully distracted, the turian's covered eye twitched a wink and a flashing blue dot in the corner of his vision made him grin.  After that, Garrus hardly blinked for fear of missing a second of live erotica or cutting his private recording short.

With waist-wrapped chord loosened a bit more, towel-like material slumped away from Shepard's hip bone and it ended him.  The sight of a single, blue, bitten-short stitch pulled taught in her skin brought back Garrus's other favorite memory and the mentally superimposed images were just too much.  He almost let his head fall backwards, but forced it forwards instead to keep her body in frame.

That's when Garrus saw it for the first time - his cum dripping out of her body.  Eyes closed slow and careful as he exhaled in a long, ragged growl, but when they opened again his teeth were spread wide and completely uncovered with sinister intent and vicious hunger. 

Vision locked low, Garrus reentered Shepard's core at a near glacial pace - pushing his fluids back in.  Hidden camera panned up from the motion to get a shot of the woman's gasping face, wreathed with messy strands of solid blood.  To somewhat sate his primal need, a blue mouth muscle laid a flat lick from the center of her splayed breasts, over the ridges of her exposed throat, and flicked up the end of her chin before returning.  Gratefully, while staying in low center frame.

Standing straight again with ravenous, low snarls, Garrus shifted his vision back down and doubled his efforts.  The only parts of Shepard still clothed were rumpled, white forearms and a single robe strap.   He couldn't choose what he liked looking at more; her flushed face, his motions into her body, or the finger-wide chord draped over the narrowest part of her waist.  It was all more than he could stand, but in the end, he picked a forth option.

Garrus propped Shepard's right leg on his left hip for a second before a black and gold gauntlet pulled down the end of a sleeve near her wrist.  The savage growl that boomed from his heavily armored chest couldn't be helped, and the hand snapped back to its place under her knee.  She had removed her bandage before their shower and now the scabbed-over wounds from his teeth were on full display - wrapping her arm like a string of embedded, red pearls.

Shepard looked like wet dream.  Her arms were flopped loose and boneless over her head - staying wherever they landed after he dragged her across the bed.  Points of stitched up hip bones poked through her thin, still-scarred skin and the sucked in tissue between them fell with the station's gravity to make the most delicious concave dip Garrus had ever seen.  

Looking just above her waist, turian breath began to hitch as human ribs expanded to prepare for another incredible cry of pleasure.  Lying flat like that, bouncing, while chiseled muscles flexed against their silky covering and neck stretched towards hair that fell around her like a liquid crest; Shepard looked so much like a turian woman Garrus's palms blindly grabbed for a calf spur on instinct. 

He was mildly disappointed, but the tantalizing dip of her midline and stretched-stiff stings of her inner thighs more than made up for it.

Then she looked at him…and grinned.  Fluttering eyes sparkled purple with the provocative light of the room and the tiny points of her side teeth held Shepard's tongue in place to mirror a lusting thirst just as powerful as his own.

Garrus stared straight ahead to save himself from the sight of her, but ended up catching the red-tinted ghost of own reflection in the window glass.  Hulking dark frame, Spector class rifle loaded and peaking over a shoulder, the blue light of an unmistakable eye piece illuminating reflective specks of gold paint inside a winged emblem that still strikes fear into the darkest hearts Omega has to offer…  It was its own kind of dream come true, but it was missing something.

Without looking away, two pink legs rose to broad shoulders and he secretly hoped someone outside could see them.  The visor's view almost grudgingly dragged down but happily refocused when it came to the star attraction - the source of the thick, sucking, slapping background beat.  Garrus soon learned that this new position worked for women of both species because the prime specimen below him started gasping curses and heaving half-finished prayers.  Shepard was close, and she looked good enough to eat.

A deep snarl signaled his talons' return to meaty thighs and Garrus sheathed himself to the knot.  Then repeatedly shoved it in and out just to watch her break.  The effect was immediate and painted nails almost ripped the sheets when Shepard wailed out and slammed shut.  He was done, but nowhere close to finished.

Right as his body seized again, Garrus slammed her legs together and thrusted through them.  Spilling all over glistening flesh, heaving breasts, pink cheeks, and open lips.  White teeth quickly bit them clean.

The finally sated man dropped limp legs and fell beside her with a crash of metal.  The blinking circle watching a plated glove draw lazy circles through the fluids around the human's navel.  Garrus strained but kept his own vocals to a minimum; much preferring to remember the sounds of her instead.

  
Shepard's messy face lolled sideways. 

  
"Garrus.  That was…amazing."

  
  
Aaaaand, cut.

  



	8. Break It In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Vakarian leave the room and tread into danger.

Recording saved, testosterone levels easing back to normal, and Shepard returning to this dimension, Garrus finally allowed himself to groan and moan what he was really thinking  

" _ Now _ can we go shoot something?" 

The back of a hand flew to Shepard's mouth as her still wet stomach arched off the bed with laughter and she blindly smacked his armored hip as if to tease him.  It was the exact reaction Garrus was hoping for and he grinned. 

"Is that a yes or a maybe?" 

She nodded through convulsions. 

"Alright!" Garrus chirped with glee as he rolled on top of her.  "Come on!  Let's go!  I want to get this thing sighted in before we hit the simulator!" 

Shepard caught her breath and started to clean herself with a sleeve and a smile. 

"Okay, big guy, we'll go… if you agree to something first." 

He sat up higher on his elbows and purred down at her.  "Of course.  What are your orders?  … _ Commander _ ." 

"Ok, three things," she began with mock annoyance while wiping the last of his seed off her skin.  "One, I'm no one's boss when I'm naked.  Two, if we're going to do something  _ that  _ active, you have to promise to feed me, and  _ actually _ let me sleep tonight.  Okay?" 

He nodded happy.  "I can do that!  What's the third thing?" 

She grinned.  "Admit that you lost." 

"Lost?" he squawked.  "Lost what?" 

"The challenge," she teased into his face.  "You cracked and made us leave the room first.  So, I win." 

"Who says we have to stay here to have fun?" he purred back.  "I'm not admitting defeat Shepard, just getting more… creative."  Garrus's brow plates twitched upwards, mimicking the campiest, stupidest, human gesture Shepard had ever seen and it killed her.  She pushed his face away for being an idiot and they both sat up giggling. 

"I'll tell you what, Vakarian," she grumbled at him with a shoulder nudge.  "You're lucky I brought a change of clothes." 

His purring rumbles softened to something far less snarky and fell into a range Shepard couldn't quite hear as he wrapped a long, black arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a nuzzle. 

"What can I say, Shepard?  I'm a lucky guy." 

Shepard took a second to relax and just enjoy the quiet moment.  No voices, no danger, no crew to command, just blissful silence for the first time in years - even to her warped sense of time. 

Garrus smelled like warm leather, new armor, cinnamon, and human sweat. 

She didn't want to go outside, but knew it couldn't be helped.  Maybe, just maybe, he could keep her from switching back into the naval officer she suddenly didn’t want to be anymore.  She wanted to beg him to let her stay here, to forget it all, to make this last longer, but that's not what came out of her mouth. 

"We have to stop by the ship.  I didn't bring any gear." 

"That's fine.  Go get dressed, I'll gather up our stuff." 

"Ok..." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Shepard had never snuck onto her own ship before, however that's exactly what she was trying to do.  Her omnitool was off, the hooded sweatshirt was pulled over her head, and she made Garrus activate the lock in hopes that would make a difference.  Sadly, EDI must have been hanging out around Joker for too long because the second Shepard cleared the decontamination chamber, the AI decided to follow a long forgotten protocol 

<<Attention: The Captain, Commander Shepard has come aboard.>>

The following facepalm was almost as loud as the announcement as it echoed through the halls of the bridge.  She looked back for a similar reaction, but found Garrus oddly calm about the whole thing—save the obvious ants in his pants about getting to the gun range. 

"Well," Shepard groaned snapping back into full commander mode.  "I should go talk to Joker." 

Garrus chirped when he looked away from the shiny, new, high-caliber toy in his hands.  "Why?  I thought we were here for armor and guns?" 

Shepard looked at him like he was thicker than a tree stump. 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe to  _ apologize _ for your little voice call stunt?  So I don't get relieved of my command on Monday?"   

The black and gold turian jerked back like he had just been pinched.  "They can do that??" 

Her arms sprung into the air on their own.  "YES!  That's probably the most unprofessional thing I could possibly do!  If this were still an Alliance ship, I would have been court-martialed by now!" 

"I…I'm sorry, Shepard," Garrus replied with a fallen face.  "I thought it was just a prank.  I didn't..."  He shook his head.  "Forgive me." 

Shepard glanced around for a second to look for witnesses, but, thankfully, found the CIC dark and completely abandoned.  After half a beat of pause, she pulled them both back into the privacy of the airlock and pinched her brow in thought. 

"Okay," she began with a sigh.  "I'm sensing there's a bit of unexpected culture gap here so, Garrus, why don't you explain how this kind of thing works on a turian ship, because I don’t think it’s the same." 

Garrus shifted awkwardly in place while holstering his rifle, but left the hand to linger on the back of his neck.  Eventually, he did start talking. 

"I… don't really know what to say, Shepard.  Where I come from, no matter what rank you hold, your personal time is yours and you're allowed to do whatever you want with it as long as you're still fit for duty.  If Joker had called to say we were ten minutes  _ late _ for our scheduled departure time, and you weren't the ship's Captain, my reaction would have been very different." 

"How so?" she replied with a head tilt and crossed arms. 

He looked like his plates itched.  "Well, first, I probably would have panicked.  After that, I would have sped back to the ship in record time and accepted my fate of terrible chores.  However, since we were early, and you had the authority to change the schedule, I didn’t see the problem in having a little fun…"  Garrus straightened and hung his head almost like a bow.  "I would never purposely endanger your career, Commander.  I apologize for my carelessness and accept full responsibility." 

"At ease Officer, you're forgiven."  She snorted a laugh and dropped her arms with a mumble.  "Assuming Joker doesn't decide to be a dick about this.  But, I think he owes me one, don't you?" 

"Yeah," Garrus breathed through tight mandibles.  "I would like to think he owes you a little more than  _ one  _ favor, considering."   

Shepard buried both hands in her hoodie pockets and looked at the ship's door with an uncharacteristic amount of nervousness.  "Well... humans are really uptight about sex, like, as a concept.  Military or no.  Also, a Captain sleeping with a member of her crew can be seen as abuse of command and is generally frowned upon.  So, even if it seems strange, I would appreciate if you kept this quiet from now on.  Okay, Garrus?" 

"Yes, Commander…" 

Shepard looked at the suddenly very quiet turian.  He looked… guilty.  Sad even.  She started to feel bad for him, but there wasn't much she could do other than put on a strong face and step inside. 

However, the cockpit was also completely dark and empty.  According to EDI, there was hardly anyone on board, which Shepard found odd. 

"Then why did you announce my arrival?" 

<<That was a joke.  Your reaction was interesting to observe.>>

For a moment, Shepard considered throwing a grenade in the AI core.  Instead, she grumbled at the sassy computer and sulked all the way to the elevator.  She and Vakarian rode up to her cabin in awkward silence.  This was weird.  Being back here, after what they had just done the night before.  It was like a walk of shame for both of them, though he wore it better.  As the lift stopped, Shepard hoisted her bag and walked out, but Garrus didn't.  Said he had to drop off his old armor and would be back up later, so she let him go. 

Once the doors to the Captain's quarters opened, Shepard was suddenly very grateful Garrus hadn't followed her in.  In her haste to get to the bar last night, she had left her cabin in shambles.  It was disappointing, really.  A lifetime of military service usually beats organization into your brain...but this wasn't really her same brain, was it. 

Shepard shook the disturbing thought from her mind and scrambled to put everything back in place.  Her new shoes were placed in the shoe locker, last night's outfits were shut inside the drycleaner, and everything embarrassing or personal was tucked away with haste.  Then, she disappeared into the bathroom to clean the aftermath of a makeup bomb.  All the while avoiding looking in the mirror, because the last thing she needed right now was for this guy to walk in on her having a conversation with her reflection like a crazy person...despite how true that probably was. 

Bomb defused and a weekend's supply of toiletries packed, Shepard stepped out of the bathroom to a perfect view of Garrus back.  He was tapping his talon on her fish tank. 

"Hey!  Don't do that you'll spook them!" 

"Sorry," he chirped startled.  "I was just testing the glass thickness.  Did you know it's bulletproof?" 

She rolled her eyes.  "No, I didn't, but please don't test that theory... That reminds me, I should feed them before I go.  You know, since you didn't do it last night like I asked." 

Garrus cracked a cocky grin.  "No...I'm pretty sure I did everything you asked for last night.  And more." 

Shepard rubbed her face in embarrassment, pushed the feeder button, and prayed this particular brand of sass wasn't going to be a permanent addition to his dry humor repertoire.  Besides, weren't his people the leading experts of detached, one night stands?  Or maybe Garrus was a 'turian rebel' in that regard too...great. 

"What do they do?" The turian in question hummed while watching the fish pick at their flakes. 

"Sit there and look pretty," she teased while walking down the steps.  "Sometimes, that's all anyone needs to do." 

Shepard heard the disgruntled huff but didn't bother to turn and see it.  Two can play at this game, smartass. 

As the Commander went around packing everything she might need for a weekend away, Garrus took a moment to look around her new room.  He remembered her last one on the SR1, and assumed this would be about the same, but it absolutely wasn't.  This place looked like a bribe.  It was as if Cerberus knew that Shepard wasn't going to come quietly, so they were trying to butter her up with fancy stuff.  Proper furniture, a small refrigeration unit, her own personal armor locker and dry cleaner, a executive desk, a private bathroom... a fish tank?  What was their angle here?  He knew Shepard would play hard to get at first, but  _ surely _ once she saw that they had rebuilt the Normandy she would comply with their mission.  I mean...that's what he did.  A familiar ship and one, friendly face is often all somebody needs to cultivate hope in their hour of need, but Cerberus went above and beyond the call. 

Why?  Why give Shepard her own floor, her own  _ everything?   _ Where they really expecting that much resistance?  They brought her back to life, so why continue to pamper her?  There were only two logical explanations:  Shepard and Cerberus had more history than he knew about, or they were trying to recruit her permanently.  The last one made the most sense.  Show someone greener pastures and they might just stay.   

Objectively, he couldn't blame her, or Cerberus for that matter.  It was a sound strategy, and if he was in her place he would probably give the idea serious consideration.  However, this was  _ Cerberus _ , aka the power-hungry leader of all pro-human, 'Earth First', Terra Firma Party supporting xenophobes...and he wasn't human.  Worse, he was turian.  His people and the batarians were tied for first on humanity's shit-list, which made the idea of Shepard being seduced by Cerberus very problematic.  Maybe he could be some kind of exception?  The Cerberus crew had been fairly polite so far, but that was only because he was the one who shot Saren...  

Well, right before he got up and started jumping around again like a geth stalker with a reaper cannon, but we don't tell that part of the story.  Even he wanted to forget that part of the story. 

Garrus took a few more steps into the room and kept looking around.  It was almost as spacious as their hotel room.  Maybe more, depending on how it was broken up.  That's when he started noticing little things and finer details:   

The elbow bend of the couch, like the one in the hotel room.  The long wide desk, that was about as high as the counter in the kitchenette.  The nice, wide bed more than big enough for two.  The chair beside it that looked about the right height so that if he got on his knees... and her feet were in the air... 

"Do you like it?" Shepard asked, snapping Garrus out of his explicit little daydream. 

"It's nice," he answered calmly, trying to hide the purr.  "It looks like Cerberus doesn't cut many corners." 

She sighed and threw a handful of socks in her bag.  "I know...  It almost feels criminal to live in here while my crew gets sleeping pods and community bunks." 

Garrus shrugged back and tested the waters.  "Well, it's not like you designed it that way.  Also, Miranda gets her own bedroom, so I wouldn't feel too bad.  The two, highest ranking officers get their own quarters.  That's nothing new." 

"Yeah, I guess..." She groaned unconvinced while picking out armor.  "It's not what I would have done, but no one asked me." 

He smiled and took the bait.  "Alright, what would you have changed about the old Normandy, Shepard?" 

She paused for a blink of thought. 

"You mean other than putting an escape pod in the cockpit?" 

Garrus winced.  He walked right into that one. 

"I'm teasing," she dismissed with a wave.  How could she joke about her...accident like that?  He couldn't even joke about it, and he wasn't even the one who died! 

"Let's start with what I like," Shepard continued while loading armor into her duffel.  "I like how the elevator goes all the way up and down now..." 

"Seconded," Garrus replied.  "Go on." 

"And I like having my armor storage up here so I don't have to strip in the cargo bay." 

"That," he answered with a playfully raised finger, "I will have to disagree with." 

Shepard turned and settled into a hip, just like she did earlier while naked.  Garrus hid the grin.  Sure enough, the image had burned in quite nicely. 

"Oh really?  Just how long have you been looking?" 

He shrugged.  "Pretty much since you picked me up, but don't shoot the messenger.  We all did." 

She deflated.  "Seriously..." 

"Me, Alenko, Zora, Joker, Liara, Wrex...even caught Willams glancing over once or twice."  He flicked a knowing smile.  "You're an attractive woman, Shepard.  Maybe one day you'll believe that." 

"Assholes..." She grumbled in disbelief while returning to the task at hand.  "I'm completely surrounded by assholes." 

"Maybe," he teased back.  "But we're your assholes, and you know we’ll follow you anywhere." 

"Pfft..." she spat, "maybe you will.  Everybody else?  Poof!  Gone.  Enjoy your suicide mission with the creepy racists, we've got  _ real _ jobs now...  But thanks for letting us ride your coattails, Commander.  ...Dicks." 

Garrus caught the hostile look in her eyes and knew exactly what she was thinking.  Wrex and Liara, had refused to join up this time and Williams called her a traitor to her face.  He was friends back then, but their relationship didn't come close the bond Shepard formed with those three.  Sadly, they were the ones who left her hanging.  As fortuitous as that friendship void had been for him, it probably hurt Shepard more than she was letting on and he wasn't  _ that _ heartless. 

So, Garrus did the only thing he knew how to do in times like this: he walked up behind the seething woman and wrapped his arms around her.  The heavy, armor-filled duffle bag fell to the floor with a thump and Shepard's body went almost limp with pent up frustration.  Garrus didn't let go.  Instead, he pushed his nose right into the side of her drooping head and started humming that tone that had made her smile on the couch. 

A moment passed, and Shepard slowly started to turn in his arms, shifting to face him.  Her arms pulled loose around the smallest part of his waist and her face rested in a bend of his chest plate.  It was times like this when Garrus paused long enough to remember how little this person could be.  When she was fighting or teasing or, heck, even fucking Shepard seemed untouchable and huge.  She could squash a krogan like a bug, but now?  Now she just looked...human.  Human, broken...and skinny.  Garrus made a mental note to ensure she ate more from now on. 

"Want to go shoot something?" He purred trying to cheer her up.  She nodded weakly so Garrus patted her back, picked up her bag, and lead Shepard towards the door.  

"Before we go," she lilted as they walked up the stairs.  "Have you met Lil' Dude?" 

Garrus looked at her perplexed.  "Who?" 

"My gecko!" Shepard sang with a smile as she pointed to a small, glass cage behind her desk.  "You two have a lot in common actually.  Also, I need to feed him before we leave." 

More curious than anything, Garrus followed her lead and stopped just shy of the cage.  "What is a gecko?  I don't see anything but fake leaves.  Is it a leaf?" 

Shepard snickered and carefully undid the enclosure's latch.  Gently, she reached inside and pulled out a tiny creature, but kept it in hidden in her hands. 

"Come see," she ushered with weak excitement.  "He won't hurt you, but he does jump, so I like to keep him close to the cage." 

Vakarian took a very careful step closer, and Shepard bit back a laugh.  A full grown turian man in top-of-the-line armor and wielding an equally impressive rifle was clearly nervous (and possibly scared) of a tiny lizard.  But, to be fair, he hadn't seen it yet. 

When her companion was standing right in front of her, Shepard opened her hands and revealed the tan critter.  It started pulsing its throat and licked the air in front of it. 

"Garrus, this is Lil' Dude.  My crested gecko." 

Mandibles pulled tight.  "Does it bite?" 

Shepard looked up with a flat face and equally flat lips.  "Really?  Your smallest finger won't even fit in its mouth.  So, no, it doesn't bite." 

He bent down to study the odd animal with more caution than curiosity, but still got very close.  It had odd, suction cup type fingers, narrow eyes, a wide head, and a cream colored stripe that ran all the way from it's neck to its oddly stubby tail.  Starting somewhere above its eyes, there were little, almost hair-like points that reminded Garrus of Shepard's eyelashes.  Perhaps, these were the 'crests' she was referring too. 

"What planet is it from?" He questioned trying to hide discomfort. 

"Earth," she replied, "but I bought him on impulse on Illium after Liara and I… yeah.  They were selling him as exotic food, but I knew better and brought him back here."  She smiled at both of them.  "Guess I have a soft spot for crests." 

Garrus looked up at her with a tiny smile, but then frowned a little. 

"Shepard, you…don't think I'm a…?" 

Sadly, he never got a chance to finish that sentence because Lil' Dude took a flying leap out of Shepard's hands, landed smack in the middle of Garrus's head, and made a beeline up the center fringe spine.   

The turian was, very suddenly, wide-eyed and frozen.  Shepard, however, was about to bust a gut. 

"I  _ told _ you he jumps!" 

"Shepard!" Garrus gritted while moving as little as possible.  "What is it doing?!  Get it off!" 

Unfortunately, the woman was too busy laughing to do anything but watch as he started freaking out. 

"Shepard!"  Oh god, his voice was cracking.  "I will  _ crush  _ this thing if you don't get it off!  Ah!  Where did it go?!" 

Lil' Dude had determined that the fringe point wasn't quite where he wanted to be and decided to crawl underneath and explore the cozy looking inside of cowl armor.  Shepard knew she should do something, but was paralyzed and turning redder every second.  Her little lizard friend was hunkered inside the shadow of her big bird friend's shell as was starting to look rather comfortable.  Very much like he did in her jacket's hood.  It was only when Garrus started snapping his dangerous, pointy head around did she actually step in to help. 

"Stop moving!  You'll stab him with your fringe!" Shepard implored with obvious amusement.  "Now, just hold still…" 

The scared stiff turian did as was instructed and she stood on her toes to gently remove Lil' Dude from his hooded carapace nest.  Thankfully, the gecko was too sleepy to protest. 

"He likes the dark." she cooed sweetly as she pet her lizard friend's head.  "He wasn't trying to scare you, he's just sleepy and doesn't have any eyelids…" 

"No eyelids?! "Why doesn't it have eyelids?!"  By the way Garrus was tripping over himself you would have thought he'd never seen an alien before.  However, to be fair, Lil' Dude did look pretty alien.  

"He's nocturnal," Shepard continued while letting the lizard crawl over her hand.  "He doesn't need them.  He just hides under his leaves all day and waits until the lights go out." 

"And then what?"  Garrus asked while just barely backing away.  "It hunts or something?" 

"No…" she scolded.  "Just jumps around, plays in his cage, and licks up his fruit sauce."  Shepard held her hand just inside the enclosure's front doors and Lil' Dude obediently hopped back in like he always did.   

"Humans," Garrus grumbled. "Your people will pet anything _. _ " 

Shepard blew a piece of hair out of her eye and went to work replacing food and water.  "Whatever… He's my friend, and  _ I _ think he's adorable.  You are entitled to your own opinion." 

When the cage door shut for the final time, Garrus visibly relaxed. 

"Shepard, can we  _ please  _ go shoot something now?" 

"Yes. Fine.  Lead the way… you  _ giant  _ baby." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Once they left the ship, the spring in Garrus's step returned almost immediately.  He was a man on a mission and all Shepard had to do was follow along.  It was nice.  She had spent most of her life having other people follow her around, even when she didn't know where she was going, so trailing behind someone else for a change was just lovely. 

In a way, it reminded her of when she and Garrus first met.  After leaving the clinic, Shepard had to make her way back to Tali and almost missed the chance for a meeting because she got turned around so many times.  There was more than once occasion when Shepard would change her mind, turn around, and run smack into either Garrus or Wrex until they got wise and started giving her a wider berth.  Looking back, she probably should have asked one of them to lead since she had never even  _ seen  _ the Citadel before, much less navigated it's wards. 

Thankfully, things were different now.  Shepard didn't have to play the part of the famous commander.  She was just a girl following her friend to the best gun range in town.  She even went through the effort of bringing her armor in a separate bag to avoid being recognized.  After all, she was supposed to be dead, so running around in full N7 gear seemed…ill advised. 

It worked, but the greater pleasure was watching the public react to Garrus.  No one cared about her, but the man in front was snapping every neck on the Citadel.  Shepard grinned with pride.  She wasn't the only one who thought Garrus looked like a million bucks…and he should.  He was,  _ literally _ , wearing a million credits worth of gear, and her friend was turning more heads than a naked supermodel in a Ferrari.   

Looked better too. 

The part Shepard didn't tell him was that Cerberus hadn't bought the gear, she had.  After her death, everything she owned had been sold by the Alliance: her pension dissolved, her accounts closed… everything.  A whole person, an entire life, gone, in a puff of smoke. 

Shepard wasn't rich in life, but in death she was suddenly priceless.  All her belongings, including all of Ruby's old gear, had been auctioned off as memorabilia to collectors.  Surprisingly, being a notorious, mass murdering, gang leader was much more profitable than being the hero of the Citadel because just Ruby's boots had sold for over one hundred thousand credits.  The jacket was another hundred, the necklace of teeth fetched about fifty grand, and her painted AR-15 went for a staggering half a million.  To put that in perspective, all of "Commander Shepard's" personal effects net about seventy thousand combined.  It was a bit disappointing really. 

However, she was just glad no one bothered to ask  _ how _ she acquired said gang member's gear. 

When it was all said and done, Shepard's estate was worth just over two million credits.  Money that the Alliance kept because she had no next of kin.  Which made her reappearance rather awkward for everyone.  She wanted names of the people the Alliance sold to, hoping she could convince TIM to buy some of her favorite items back, but most of the buyers were anonymous.  Instead, Anderson made a few calls and managed to get the Alliance accounting team to agree to split the profits with her.  Kind of a "sorry we sold all your stuff to random people and kept the cash" apology gift. 

However, Shepard didn't need or want money.  It wasn't enough to buy her way free of Cerberus, and she didn't have anything to spend it on anyway.  Except, Garrus really  _ did  _ need new armor, and TIM wasn't ken on paying for it.  So, Shepard did something stupid: she spent herself almost completely broke.  In one afternoon her credit count went from a seven digit number to a four digit one…barely. 

Shepard put away her omnitool and looked up at Archangel's broad, glossy carapace and the smile came flying back.  He passed a group of asari and they almost tripped over their own jaws.  Shepard was about ten paces behind him at this point and could hear the blue people giggle and whisper as she walked by.  A little later, a group of turian men almost choked on their drinks and started growling with jealous anger when Garrus was out of earshot.  She even caught an elcor turning its head, and she beamed inside her hood. 

Best. Idea. Ever.  

Shepard vowed to never tell him truth.  He would demand she take it back or would sell it himself and hack the money back into her account somehow.  Garrus was too nice and couldn't take a compliment for shit, but he did enjoy sticking it to Cerberus; so that's what she would have him believe for the rest of both of their lives.  However, she would continue to shamelessly enjoy being his secret sugar momma though.  She was born into rags, and would probably die in rags, but Garrus?  He deserved better. 

"Hey, you alright back there?" 

She snapped out of her thought bubble and hurried to catch up. 

"Sorry," she lied, "Short legs." 

Garrus gave her a soft smile and put an arm around her shoulders.  God, she only came up to his chest… 

"No, I'm sorry.  I'm so used to following you that I forgot how easily I can leave you behind." 

She smiled back.  "It's ok.  I had your six." 

He looked up and away to hide his expression but Shepard was close enough to hear the purr in his chest. 

"Come on," he finally said while obviously stepping on his subvocals.  "C-Sec's just over the bridge."  He gave her shoulder a pat and started walking again.  As he moved aside, Shepard met eyes with a very pretty female turian that had been standing right next to where Garrus had stopped.  He hadn't noticed at all.  The angular woman was scowling at Shepard with seething hate, but the human's face spread into the biggest, most shameless, shit eating grin.  She didn't say anything to the woman, just winked and walked away. 

So very, very worth it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Worth it." 

"Really?  It's that good?" 

Garrus fired a second round.  

"Shepard, I think I'm going to name it." 

She palmed her face.  

He fired a third round and stood up to call the target.  Shepard was still recovering from his last comment when a paper slammed on the counter she was sitting on. 

It had one, very burned hole in it.  Right between the eyes. 

"Damn.  Nice shootin', Tex…" 

Garrus was puffed bigger than a peacock. 

"It is amazing, Shepard.  Thank you." 

She shrugged and tried to deflect. 

"Thank TIM, he bought it.  I just ordered it." 

He leaned against the counter, grinning.  "Even better.  That is a quarter million credits he can't spend on terrible experiments, and I approve." 

_ "Knew it," _ Shepard thought to herself. 

"But, still Shepard…"   

She looked up at him, waiting for the rest of the sentence.  However, the response wasn't quite  what she was expecting.  

"...Oh, to hell with it." 

In a dizzying blur, Garrus grabbed the back of her head and stuck his tongue in her mouth.  Right in the middle of the C-Sec Academy gun range.  She hummed in shocked surprise, and he tugged on her bottom lip when he pulled away. 

"Thank you." 

She giggled like a kid with a crush, but Garrus's stupid grin was so adorable she couldn't help herself. 

"You're welcome.  I'm glad you like it." 

He smirked at her.  "I wasn't kidding about naming it.  I think I really might." 

She bit her lip and was honestly surprised he hadn't noticed this yet.  "It actually already has a name." 

Garrus shook his head so fast his fringe made a swishing noise in the air.  "It does?  What is it?" 

"Go look at the side," she said, tipping her head towards the weapon still perched in the sighting brace. 

He walked over, picked up the heavy, black rifle and turned it around to look at both sides while walking back.  Shepard helped him out by pointing to the gun's right side just before the vents. 

"Black Sheep?" he sounded out.  "What does that mean?" 

Shepard silently cursed herself.  Of course that wouldn't translate… 

"It's a human expression," she explained as casually as possible.  "To say someone is the 'black sheep of the herd' means that they're the odd one, because sheep are normally white.  However, the deeper meaning is that... even though the seemingly 'normal' people around them may not  _ like _ the black sheep, it doesn't mean that they are a bad person.  A black sheep is unique, different…a rebel." 

Garrus started smiling again and she pretended not to notice. 

"Also, my name is Shepard.  Shepherds herd sheep.  It's a  _ Black _ Widow… Get it?"  She was starting to think she was an idiot.  "It's a play on words.  Sorry."  

Garrus ran his thumb back and forth over the engraved words before gently setting it down behind where she was sitting without a word.  Shepard turned to him, searching his face for answer, but didn't hear or see anything until Garrus leaned in and softly pressed into her head. 

"It's perfect." 

Shepard caught herself smiling again and decided enough was enough. 

"How long's it been since you had a girlfriend, Garrus?" she asked flatly, harshly breaking the mood on purpose.  "Date?  One nighter?  Really anything at all before this weekend?" 

More than slightly shocked, the turian straightened with an uneasy face twitch and started muttering.  The words weren't coherent, but the message was clear: a really long ass time. 

Shepard crossed her arms, nodding to herself.  "See, the reason I ask is because I've been trying to figure out why you're suddenly so sappy.  Sappy  _ and _ horny…  But I think I get it now."  She gave the man a once over with her eyes and knowingly clicked her tongue behind teeth.  "You're starved, aren't you?  All work and no play is a dangerous combo, buddy.  That's how people snap." 

Garrus scratched a brow plate and kept twitching, but said nothing.  She hummed a long nod. 

"That's how the downward spiral of Archangel happened, isn't it?" 

He nodded weakly.  "That's… one way of looking at it." 

Shepard's expression was of vaguely condescending pity and mentally kicked herself for what she was about to say. 

"Well, as your commander, I can't really allow that kind of mental instability to continue.  This has been fun, so far, but on Monday we go back to work.  Therefore, I need everyone at one hundred percent or we may not make it home." 

Garrus, somehow, stood even stiffer. "What are you saying, Shepard?" 

She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut.  This was a very bad, very dangerous idea… but what else is new? 

"I'm saying.…"  She looked at him grudgingly while every single part of her brain was screaming for her to shut up.  "You're clearly pent up, in more ways than one, and that kind of repression isn’t healthy.  For anyone.  So…"   

Shepard sighed again, but mentally she was rolling her whole neck with a huge groan.  She hated grenade jumping.   

"...You want to play pretend this weekend?  Just get, whatever the heck is bothering you out of your system so you can focus again?" 

Garrus's body was very still, but his demeanor was of a man about to pop like a water balloon.  

"Like...pretend...you and I are…together?" 

"Yes," she almost grumbled.  "I am agreeing to be your girlfriend, but  _ only _ for the weekend, okay?  There's too much work to do and I don't have time for drama.  However, I also really need whatever's wrong with you to stop too.  So…just…"  She waved a hand flick.  "Do what makes you happy...even if that is being a dorky, awkward, rom-com on legs." 

"R-Really…?" 

"Sure," she shrugged with a weak smile.  "Knock yourself out." 

Garrus lit up like a Christmas tree and some kind of damn burst inside his chest.  Everything he had been holding back for half his life broke through all at once like a tidal wave of rocks and he practically tackled Shepard onto the counter.  The biggest, most painful boulder of them all came out first, and with it's weight relieved Garrus felt light enough to fly.  It felt so good, better than anything in years, that he nearly crushed a fully armored Shepard in his arms like an empty can under a bus while he buried his face in her hair. 

"I love you." 

Above his shoulder, Shepard's eyes went wide.  "That was quick." 

Garrus shook his head against her neck and was forced to pull back to hold in worst of his purring and keening. 

"No, I mean… I love you, as a person.  The fact that you are willing to do this... all of this, for _me?_ "  He shook himself sane, choosing to save some of the glitter vomit for later.  "Thank you, Shepard.  Between leaving C-Sec…  Omega… and everything else.  It's been really hard."   

He swallowed and tried to gather his scattered emotions long enough to finish the thought without digging himself any deeper.  "I just want something to go right.  Just once—and I  _ desperately  _ want to forget about it all for a while."  He chuckled with a playful shrug.  "You know, go somewhere nice?" 

Despite her previous trepidation, Shepard actually caught herself smiling and laughing at the fluffy, clinically depressed dork.  Surprisingly, that was actually a very reasonable request. 

"I guess I owe you that much, Garrus," she shrugged back while dangling her feet off the edge of the counter.  "Everyone else has been asking me for favors  _ much  _ more asinine than that.  Everyone, except you.  You're too damn polite to say anything."   

Shepard put a hand over his scars for the first time in an attempt to accept them, but found she still had a long way to go, and smirked to cover it.   

"So, what's Garrus Vakarian's idea of a perfect date, hm?" 

"With someone like you?" he teased as while standing straight and tapping his chin in fake thought.  Then those eyes caught hers and that voice just plummeted to the silkiest, smokiest, tone Shepard had ever heard. 

"Well, I imagine it would be a day of cooperative war games - with personal score on, of course; followed by some sightseeing or shopping, perhaps.  Later on there would be a reservation for a candlelight dinner, some classy drinks… maybe a bottle of wine to take home.  And, in the end, I would very much enjoy spending a long, warm night wrapped up in asari made sheets.  Care to join me?" 

A red-painted thumbnail stuck itself in between flat, front teeth and Shepard's armored shoulders shook with wave after wave of internal erotica.  Of all the people she had to fake date to placate, she could certainly be saddled with worse. 

"You know what?" Shepard lilted.  "That sounds lovely.  I think I will." 

Garrus extended a hand and she took it to hop down from the counter.  But, when N7 boots touched floor, the hand holding hers pulled tight and intertwined their mismatched fingers between two very different faces.  Shepard's hand looked a bit like Thane's, but still, they fit pretty well together... for a couple of aliens. 

"Shall we?" 

"Let's." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm posting again!   
> Smut is taking a backseat to fluff and character development for a bit, but don't worry.   
> We will get back there.


	9. Battle Couple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They _finally_ get to shoot something. Bonus points if you can guess the other teams on the leaderboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma lil drunk. Prepare for sound effects because I can't write fight scenes...especially now.
> 
> For refference: Shep's a vanguard and charges a few times, Garrus uses overload a couple times, but mostly its ThundaStorm (shep's shotgun), Black Sheep (G's new Black Widow), a couple pistols and the sound of drones dying.

It took everything Garrus had to not carry Shepard around C-Sec in full bridal style, or just thrown over his shoulder like a her duffel bag.  He wanted to take her around the station, bothering anyone who used to tease him for being a shut-in, rubbing his luck in everyone's face.  Or maybe shouting the news over the intercom was more efficient.  Just scream, "I am Garrus Vakarian, and Commander Shepard is my freaking _girlfriend,_ " into a microphone somewhere...

But he didn't.  Instead he settled for subvocal humming and the occasional nudge with an elbow or hip as they walked to the simulator deck.  Commander Shepard was supposed to be dead, and she seemed to enjoy hiding in plain sight.  That's why she threw an oversized sweatshirt over her armor.  It was an odd look, but not unheard of for humans, he supposed.

To be fair, the times they were stopped by random people had dropped by a power of ten.  So, that was pretty nice.

"Hey, remember that turian ship that was nothing but a combat simulator?"

Garrus looked down at his brand new girlfriend's reminiscing face and smiled with a little tap of his boot against hers.

"I do.  Pinnacle Station, right?"

Shepard snapped her fingers.  "Yeah!  That was it!  That place was the best..."

He chuckled.  "It was.  We had some good times there..."  He turned a corner and put a hand over her back to direct her.  It wasn't strictly necessary, but it felt good anyway.  "These simulators are the second iteration of those, so, if you enjoyed Pinnacle Station, you will enjoy this."

Shepard sighed as the elevator doors closed.  "Yeah...but it's still not the same."

Garrus blinked confused.  "No, you don't understand, Shepard.  Pinnacle Station was a prototype, this is the finished, bug-free, final product.  It's better in, literally, every way."

Shepard smirked a little devilishly.  "Nope.  Not every way.  It's still missing a critical component.  That is, unless, these doors open and prove me wrong."

bing

The elevator stopped and opened to a common room where several, equally armored people were milling around, entering and exiting simulation rooms, brandishing weapons, and discussing strategy.  The atmosphere was bright and lively, much better than Pinnacle Station, in Garrus's opinion, but Shepard still looked disappointed.

"Knew it...bummer."

Thoroughly confused, and a little hurt, Garrus trilled in honest question.  "What do you mean?  This place is state-of-the-art!  What's wrong with it?"

Shepard looked up with a devilish little brow raise and wiggled her finger towards the common area.  "There's no parade of dashing, young, Hierarchy soldiers lined up to greet me.  That was the best part..."

Hands clasped behind her back, Shepard stepped out of the elevator, playfully whistling in mock innocence, but Garrus froze mid stride and just gawked at her.  Honestly, he didn't know whether to laugh, get angry, or just mercilessly flog himself for being so hopelessly dense in the past.  In the end, the elevator doors trying to close on his foot snapped him awake and the thoughts popped out of his mouth at once.

"Really??   _That's_ what you remember??"

Shepard turned over her shoulder and, for Garrus, time stopped on a dime.  The mid morning Presidium light shone from the high windows to form beams of light that illuminated her face like a halo of sun, dust, and strands of red.  Even wearing an unflattering, grey, oversized sweatshirt that didn't match whatsoever, the woman was gorgeous.  Breathtaking...even if these were the next words out of her mouth.

"What can I say?  I like my men dextro-based.  You're not even my first."

Garrus shook himself out of his stupor and jumped to a trot to catch up.

"Hold on...What??  I thought that was the whole point of this in the first place?!"

Shepard laughed over her shoulder and waved him off.  "Relax, it was only one, and he doesn't count."

"Umm..." He hummed slightly annoyed.  "Unless he was some kind of hybrid, I think it does.  Why don’t you?"

"Because he had a thing for humans," Shepard offered casually.  "I mean, the guy was practically human himself.  Charming, sure, but was a far cry from what I'd call a 'real' turian...  He was a draft dodger and everything."

Garrus bristled, but not at her.  "A...He _dodged_ mandatory service!?  Wow.  I might have just lost a little bit of respect for you, Shep."

"Well I didn't know that at the time!" she defended.  "It was right after Saren.  Everyone was celebrating _our_ victory, except me because my date stood me up.  So...I followed the bartender home.  Sue me!"

He shrugged.  "Well, okay, I suppose that's... understandable.  Where the hell was I?"

Shepard laughed.  "Concussed, I think.  I don’t know, really.  You kinda disappeared for a minute there."  She turned and started walking backwards, smirking all the while.  "It's okay though.  I'd say you're making up for lost time."

She winked at him before turning back around with a swish of hips and that's when Garrus finally let it go.  Mostly, he remembered that that was her old body.  Her new one was all his...presumably.  So he turned it into a joke.

"I suppose I am...  Actually, this clears up a few things I was wondering about."

"Oh," she lilted playfully.  "You mean, like, how a woman who can’t dance to save her life can suddenly horizontal tango with a turian  like it's second nature?  Well, now you know why.  Pissed?"

Much to his own surprise, Garrus wasn't.

"No.  However, I do owe this bartender a beer.  He saved me a lot of interspecies awkwardness."

"Oh yeah," Shepard laughed as he caught up.  "Got _really_ disappointed the first time I saw it, you know, _not_ in plain sight.  That was strange..."  She shrugged it off.  "But, obviously, I got over it.  Pros outweigh the cons, in my humble opinion."

Garrus quietly snickered the subject away and proceeded to manage their reservation on his omnitool as they walked through the common room.  He liked this place, it was one of the nicer upgrades the CItadel had added during the rebuild, but there were some bad memories associated with it.

This is where he went the day he heard Shepard died.   

No.  This is where he stayed for almost a week after Shepard died.   

Simulation after simulation, on the hardest difficulty, for hours and hours at a stretch.  He destroyed so many drones, that the overage fees completely drained his accounts... Fees that left him in almost crippling debt.  Once again, his father stepped in and got them lowered.  Called in a favor or two with the Executor who eventually wrote them off as part of C-Sec's training budget, but the damage had been done.  He was flat broke, and C-Sec wouldn't take him back without garnishing wages to the point he would almost work for free.

But still, even after all of that, his enraged bloodlust wouldn't subside.

So, he ran off to Omega.  Thought he'd try his hand with live fire rounds...  Much more satisfying than lasers and points.

You know, until it wasn't.

"Something on your mind?"

Garrus snapped out of his trance and smiled like nothing had happened, once again, burying the pain somewhere deep and unreachable and covering the hole with a mask of happiness.

"Not really.  Just thinking about how I have never had the pleasure of bringing a date to a combat simulator."

The pretty, red woman smiled back at him, thankfully, none the wiser.

"Wow, really?  Huh.  I would have pegged this as your go-to for first dates.  You don't really seem like the 'dinner and a vid' type."

He waved it off.  "Well, you are correct about that.  However, I usually don't attract women who think shooting combat drones is fun."

Shepard was about to answer, but was stopped by a proximity alert on her visor that warned she was about to walk into a wall.  Luckily, she caught it and managed to save them all the embarrassment.

A quick up and down glance revealed that the wall she almost collided with was actually a door.  This must be the entrance to the simulator.

"What course do you want?"  Garrus asked while poking at the console beside him.

"You're the one testing new equipment," she offered.  "Surprise me!  You know I'm up for anything."

Garrus chuckled under his breath.  "No comment."

Shepard crossed her arms in a huff and glared at the door like it was the thing she was annoyed with.

_"When, exactly, did this guy decide he could get away with making perverted jokes about me, huh?"_

_"Uh... prolly when ya pinned him to the couch with yur vag, Gurl.  Just a guess."_

_"Oh, you shut the hell up right now!"_

_"C'ain't help it.  I smell robo blood!"_

_"Well, keep it to a dull roar, will ya?"_

_"Aye, aye, Bird Fucker!"_

"Ready?"

Shepard blinked innocently, nodded at her pretend boyfriend, and the doors swung open.  However, the inside wasn't the simulator like she was expecting.  Instead it looked much more like an airlock.  She glanced over at Garrus who was hanging spare weapons up on the wall and followed his lead.  This must be the room to store excess gear and restock between rounds.

FInally, her sweatshirt peeled off and fell into a puddle on the bench, revealing her glossy, new, black and deep red N7 armor, complete with red and white shoulder stripe.  The Capacitor plating on her chest was far from flattering (kinda looked like dog nipples in her opinion) but the shield boost was more than worth it.  The longer her shields held, the less she had to rely on her barriers...which were exhausting.  At least it somewhat matched the amplifier plates on her shoulders, and she still kept her N7 pants.

"As strange as this sounds," Garrus rumbled from somewhere behind her.  "I almost miss the camouflage."

Shepard laughed and turned the stabilizers in her gauntlets to match her shotgun.  "Oh really?  See, I thought you were going to say you missed being a proud member of Team Pink."

Garrus groaned loud and obnoxiously and her gut almost burst.  That was the very same noise he made the first time she forced him to wear Phoenix armor, and holy crap was it still funny.  Almost as funny as Team Pink's first outing...where they walked right out of the airlock and smack into the Rear Admiral, who proceeded to do a surprise inspection.  Shepard then had to be Little Miss Perfect while she, a grown turian man, and a monstrous scarred-up krogan were, clearly, wearing joke armor.   

They never wore it again.   

Well, Wrex did.  He and Shepard shared a sense of humor.

 

 **< <Input Confirmed: Mode- Hunt.  Map- Subterranean.  Simulation begins in 3....2...1....** **_beeeep_ ** **> >**

 

The doors flew open.

To the drones inside, it must have looked like two grim reapers stood before them; brows furrowed, shoulders back, giant weapons in hand, black clad from head to toe, and nearly matching visors over opposite eyes.

Shepard and Garrus took a moment to glance at each other's grins.   

They were scary, and it was awesome.

Coms switched on and they flew into action, just as they had a hundred times before.  There was an effortless sync between them that had always existed, but had taken a lifetime to master.    

Literally, in Shepard's case.   

Running on pure instinct, she moved left just as he rolled right.  She raced along the top ridge towards the first spawn point while he swooped in and made a nest in the spotter tower.

The first geth barely materialized before it was pegged, and the second walked half a step before bursting into a cloud of sparks.  Shepard touched her ear.

"Shotty Snipers, right?"  

"What else would we do?"

"Okay.  Just checking."   _BLAM!_ Another drone bit the dust.

"To your left."

"I got it.  3'oclock!"

"PULL!"

_crik-THUUM_

"I love this rifle."

"Thought you might."

The kills rolled in half a dozen at a time.  Thankfully, because of the nature of the simulator, the thermal clips didn't need full replacing.  The dummy they used instead did have to be fully removed and cooled for half a second, but then it could be popped right back in and kept on firing.   

It was the way all guns used to work, managing heat and wear over physical clips.  Even though it wasn't what Shepard grew up using, it still gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling of nostalgia.  The company didn't hurt either.  For a little while, it really was just like old times...and it felt pretty damn good to be home.

"So, I promise there was a train of thought here." _BANG_

"Alright." t _ch-THUM_ "What is it?"

 _fzzt-CRAK-pooom_ "Have you kept up with Wrex at all?"  

"Last I heard..."   _WHACK_ "...He was on Tuchanka." _tch-tick-hiisssss....thunk. Click._ "Something about uniting all the krogan clans under one banner." _THUUM_ "But I haven't seen him in person in over a year."   _THUM_  "Maybe two.  Why?"

 _Snap! whaaaab..._ "No reason in particular."   _BLAM_ "This place reminds me of Liara's volcano." _tick-chik  BLAM_  "And these clips are like the ones we used to use."   _tch-hissssss...._  "But mostly,"   _shonk_  "I was thinking about Team Pink."   _BLAM_

"Watch your barriers." _THUUM_ "Shield's down."

"Got it."

"I'll never understand why he loved that awful suit so much..."   _THUUM  tch-tick_ "You both did.  Thought it was hilarious..."   _thunk-click_ "Tali was the only one who looked good in it."   _THUUM_ "Headshot!"

"NICE!"   _BLAM_  "And what about Ash?  She wore it first."   _ker-BLAM_

"Eh."   _fzzt...CRAK_ "It suited Tali better."   

"HA!  I see what you did there...  PULL!"   _THUUM pzzzz-zzt..._ "Sweet."

"I can be funny sometimes."   _THUUM_ "Time?"

"T minus eight seconds!  Go, go, go!!"

**5...**

**4....**

**3....**

**2....**

**1.....**

**_BAAAAAAAAAAMMMPP_ **

 

**< Simulation Complete.  User 1: New Personal High Score.  User 2: New Personal High Score.  New Team High Score.  New Daily High Score.  New Weekly High.... >>**

"Yeah, yeah, yeah.... We get it."  Shepard slung her shotgun into its lumbar hoster and caught up with her battle date near the door.  "Christ, is it still going?"

Garrus huffed in amusement and swaggered over, cooly strapping Black Sheep onto his back like it wasn't enormous.  "I think so, Shepard.  I guess seventy-five is pretty good, given the spawn rate."

"Which could stand to be upped," she admitted with a little brow raise and a shrug.  "You know, if they're looking for feedback."

"Oh, it gets harder," he purred with a little lean closer.  "That was just a warm up."

"Oh!" Shepard blinked in correction.  "Well, in that case, mission accomplished.  How's the gun?"

Garrus grinned like a kid on Christmas.  "Perfect, as was expected.  The three round clip is slightly frustrating, but the stopping power is..."  He looked up, searching for a word.  "...euphoric."

Shepard gave his shoulder a playful nudge and they stepped back into the airlock to take five.  She reached for a canteen, he peeled open a ration bar.  They shared a glance, then tossed a spare of each to the other.  Both huffed a little snort, and tucked in.

They even caught the items at the same time.  Maybe they were soulmates...  Awkward.

"So?" He questioned over a swig.  "Up for another round?"

Shepard shot him a devilish look.  "Always, big guy.  Just one of the perks of being a woman."

Garrus almost shot water through his nose and had to snap a hand up to catch it, but Shepard held her gut and threw her head back, nearly choking on laughter.

"Okay, wow..." he mumbled after recovering slightly.  "I walked right into that one."

"All's fair in love and war," she lilted while crossing armored legs.  "Don't dish out what you can't swallow."

Garrus forced himself to breathe with a chest pound and raised a brow plate at her.  "Isn't swallowing your job?

Shepard looked away, begging some deity for strength.  "Well, how about you tell me?  So far, I remember you being the one who was begging for face-sitting."

He shrugged and kicked back.  "True, but you didn't seem to mind."

"Oh, absolutely not," Shepard answered while pocketing her canteen.  "Teeth be damned, that tongue is _well_ worth it.  I will happily take my chances."

"Really," he hummed while giving her a strange eye.  "Funny, I heard something similar about human mouths..."

Arms and legs crossed, they sat there on opposite benches in silent staredown for an unknown amount of time.  Could have been seconds, could have been minutes, but to them it was a wordless challenge.  A test to see if the other would take the bait, and how far they were willing to go.   

It took some consideration.  On both sides.

Either way, they suddenly felt like maybe this combat training wasn't the entertainment they were looking for any more.

"Hey," Shepard offered with a hooded smirk, having the guts to break the silence first.  "What do you say to one more run and then we get out of here?"

"I knew you could read my mind," Garrus teased with equal expression.  "Although, I'm left to wonder...Is that a biotic trait or just a Shepard one?"

"Maybe both," she shrugged, still staring.  "Hard for me to tell."

"Then let's test it," he purred with a devious tilt of his head.  "What am I thinking about now?"

"Logistics," she answered with a toothy smirk.  "Same as I am."   

Shepard leaned all the way back, looking to a corner of the ceiling, and started to stroke her chin in sinful thought.  "See, I think, realistically, you're going to have to be on your back, but propped up somehow.  My knees will have to be over your shoulders and I'll be face down...sitting up on my elbows like wheelbarrow meets planking."  She nodded to herself.  "I definitely have the harder position, but, luckily, my shoulders, back and abs are stronger than ever.  So, we can probably make it work."

Garrus was rolling like thunder before she even finished, but managed to check his tone with a cough long enough to reply.

"So you can read minds.  Good to know..."  He grabbed his gun from the bench beside him and stood up, taking a long, deep breath along the way.  "I say we jump straight to survival mode.  Cut to the chase, get our target practice in, then head back to the hotel for some core and cardio.  Sound good?"

Shepard licked her teeth.  "Hey, this is your date, remember?  I'm just here to be swept off my feet 'n shit."

Garrus held out a hand, and she took it.  Hungry, devilish eyes locked and shared more than one explicit thought as Shepard rose to her feet.  Knowing better than to touch any further, they grabbed their gear, slammed in their heatsinks, and stared eachother down—primed and ready.

 

 **< <Simulation begins in 3...2....1....beeep>>**    

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

"Say," _BLAM_ "Vakarian?" _BLAM_ "Is it just me?"   _BLAM_ "Or are we kinda"   _BLAM tch-chik_  "I dunno..."   _BLAM_ "Getting our asses kicked?"   _BLAM  woooop----BOOM  chik-BLAM  WHAAK_

"Yeah..."   _THUUM  THUUM THUUM tch-tick-hiissss-thun-click THUUM_ "Little bit."  

"Why don't we make it interesting?"   _pop-pop-pop-k'BLAM_

"I'm listening." _k'rrrraaat-tat-tat-tat  rrrrat-tat-tat_

 _thh-WAAK CRAK_  "Last man standing wins."   _BLAM_

 _Rrrratt  rrrrraat_ "Wins what?"  

"I win,"   _BLAM_ "and you wait 'til tonight."   _CRAK_...fzzzztt-t-t

 _SMAK...bzzt_ .  "WHAT?!"   _THUUM_

"You heard me."   _pop-pop-pop_  "Or has that cannon already made you go deaf?"  rrrraaaahh-- _BOOM_

"Trust me."   _wac-bac snap_  "Yours is louder."  

"What, this ol' thing?"   _BLAM  k'BLAM tch-chik BLAMBLAM_

"Yeah."   _THUUM_ "That."

"So?"   _BLAM  k'WAK_  "We got a deal?"   _BLAM_

 _TUUM THUUM  hiiiisssss....._ "Sure."   _tick-click_  "But if you lose..."   _t'chik_  "You swallow."   _THUUM_

"Ooooh..."   _BLAM_ "You're goin' down, Vakarian!"  

"It's Archangel..."   _THUUM_ "...and you wish."

From a pile of circuitry and dying holograms on the ground; electric, glowing eyes shot up to meet frozen ones—like white dwarves taking on an orbiting planet's ice caps.  Carbon fiber arms spread wide with a flash of static.

 _Fzzt-whaaaab_ "Woah!  What's that?!  Is...Is that an infinite shield I can make with my mind??  Wow!  How convenient for me!"

Garrus hunkered down, even deeper into his scope, and blindly threw another mine behind him.

 

"...s'kak."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Another minute passed, each second more agonizing than the last.

Thirty more seconds.  Shepard charged back to the high ground of the water tower, and through about fifteen holographic mechs.  The last two krogan had to be taken out with a shotgun-turned baseball bat while her pistol cooled.

Garrus was out of mines.  He switched to an assault rifle and ducked into a thin metal corner for cover. It wasn't perfect, but a crate or two kept him from being kneecapped from beneath the railing.  It was his back that he was concerned about.

And they just kept coming.  Wave after wave of them.  Krogan mostly.  Apparently, the VI in charge had a sense of humor.

He took a precious second to breathe.  This was starting to hit a little closer to home than previously expected.  His face burned like it was being branded.  A gloved hand kept reaching to check for blood, but never found any.  Maybe the wound could do with a change of dressing...or maybe it was all in his head.

Raging infection or phantom trauma... he didn't know which was worse.  

 

Left.  Right.  Left.  Right.

 

Wow, this was too close for comfort.

brrrapp-brrrrapp-brrrapp

 

Overcharge.  Black Sheep becomes a battering ram at close range.   

 

 _T_ _HUUM_   

 

No scope.  No time.

 

_BLAM_

 

Shepard.  Oh thank god...  

God?  Goddess?  Whatever human deity she's always screaming to.  Wonder if it ever answers her?  

 

"Hey!  Eyes up!  Take out the ground troops!  I'll get the stragglers!  Go!"  

 

Garrus spun around and dared to come out of hiding for the first time in what felt like an eternity.  As rifle hit the crates and visor locked onto hitboxes, his eyes narrowed with renewed intent.  He even cracked a grin.  

The carbon fiber against turian steel, spine against carapace, the two materials clacked together in with their movements like the banging of war drums.  It provided the downbeat of their battle, while the breaking holograms were the melody.  Shepard's screaming biotics and cracking shotgun hit the highs and Garrus pulled the trigger on the bass line.

The last stand was going surprisingly well, all things considered.  That is, until Shepard started talking.  

 

"Hey.  You're not... giving up.... on me now.... right?  Vakarian?"  

"Never.  Wouldn't dream of it, Commander."  

Garrus took a fraction of a second to pull up her vitals.  Shepard's core temperature was 102, and climbing.  She was straining her biotics, refusing to give up, but why?  

Suddenly, Garrus remembered.   

This was just a simulator.  

This wasn't Illos, or Feros, and it sure as hell wasn't Noveria or Omega.  

This was just a game!

Why were they killing themselves in here?  The VI was only going to make things harder and harder until something finally broke them.  There were more krogan storming the water tower now than there were is all of Okeer's lab.

Then, he remembered their bet.  Maybe she just _really_ didn't want to lose.

"Well.  That's a terrifying thought..."  

"What's that, Vakarian?  Scared... a... a tiny human's gonna... gonna beat ya?  Cause I will!"  

She threw up another barrier.  Temp was at 103 now.

"Shepard!" he bellowed over her shotgun.  "You have to lay off the biotics!  You're fever's too high!"  

"Pfft!  I'm fine!  This... this is.... piece a cake!"  

 

Fuck.  

 

Well this wasn't good.

 

Garrus picked off a few more krogan.  They were so tightly packed now each shot could take out two or three with each head shot, but there were too many of them.  There was no way he could shoot more than three shots without having to stop and reload.  However, every time he did, at least half a dozen would slip by...which meant Shepard would have to deal with them.  He couldn't afford that.   _She_ couldn't afford that, not at this rate.  

He reloaded and caught a glimpse at a digital krogan's weapon.  It was a Carnfax.  They all had them.  

He had one too.  

 

_"She's gonna kill me for this..."_

 

Garrus dumped his clip as fast as the trigger would pull, gaining as many points as possible in the process, then popped the dummy heatsink.   

He glanced back ever so slightly.

Shepard was at 103.4.  She was cooking herself and seriously running out of time.

Thank goodness these simulations only recorded what weapon fired the kill shot, not _who_ fired it.  

 

As discretely as possible, Garrus drew his sidearm and loaded the fake heatsink.

Then, he took a deep breath and tried to line up a shot that would look convincing.

 

_bang_

 

 

**< <Simulation Complete.  User 1: KIA.  Carnfax shot to the head.  User 2 wins.  New High Score.  New Daily High Score.  New... >>**

 

"User 2?"  Shepard gasped in disbelief behind him.  "Wait.   _I'm_ User 2!  HA!  In your face, Vakarian!  Wooohooo!  Wooo... "  

_thump_

 

Garrus removed the heatsink from his pistol and put it back where it was before slipping the Carnfax into its hidden holster.   

Then, of course, he immediately spun on his toes and dumped the rest of his canteen of water over Shepard's head and neck.

She was down and completely passed out on the tower's catwalk.  The water that hit the implant in her neck instantly erupted into steam.

 

Maybe... they should lay off the combat simulation from now on.  Apparently, neither of them were very good at knowing when to quit.  

 

"Shepard!" Garrus begged while trying to shake her awake.  "Shepard!  Come on, wake up!  Damn it!  I don't know how to treat human fevers!"  

 

"Well... it's not waterboarding.  You know... in case you're curious..."

 

Garrus finally allowed himself to release the breath he was holding, but it came out as an exhausted laugh.  Even when she was mostly dead this woman was still trying to crack jokes...  Spirits, she was amazing.  

 

He didn't wait for permission, or even ask for any in the first place.  Instead, Garrus picked the soaked, scorching hot woman up into his arms and carried her out bridal style...just like he always wanted to.  Though, he did wish it was under better circumstances.  

"I don't need... to be carried... by _losers,"_ she panted through exhaustion.  "I won... put me down! .... fkin... buurd..."  

"I don't think that's wise, Shepard," Garrus chuckled as he walked down the ramp of the tower.  "Sorry, but I don't trust your ability to walk down an incline right now.  No offense."  

"pfffft..." she buzzed indignantly through her lips.  "I told you.  I'm fine..."

"Oh really?" he teased while lowering his head at her.  "How many fringe plates do you see?"  

Shepard's eyes were open at different levels and Garrus did his damndest not to snicker.  She  was actively mouthing the numbers and wiggling a finger at his head, clearly counting to a number higher than three.

"Five?  No, four.  Four's the right answer, right?"  

He shook his head at the silly, suicidal woman and bounced her up higher into his grip.  The synthetic announcer was still rambling on about scores, but neither of them cared.  Sure, they used to when they walked in here, but now?  Now they were both just happy to leave, even if only one of them would admit it.  

By the time they reached the airlock, Shepard had cooled considerably.  Her eyes were closed for the short journey to the door and it seemed the two minute power nap had done her quite a bit of good.  Her temperature was down to 99 degrees and her eyes were blinking in sync again.

Garrus was actually a little jealous.  A nap sounded fantastic.  

The doors to the simulation room shut and the turian propped the little woman on the bench.  The first thing she did was yawn.  The second thing she did was strip her chest and back plates off, throw them in her bag, and pull over that ugly, grey sweatshirt again.  

"Do they have showers here?" she asked with implied plea.  Shepard sounded tired, probably hungry too.  Garrus didn't blame her one bit.  

"Yeah, they do," he huffed in thinly veiled exhaustion.  "Unisex, but..."  

Shepard waved him off.  "Like every bathroom on the Citadel because humans are strange and asari don't understand gender.  I know.  It's cool.  I honestly don't give a damn.  Never have really."

Garrus chuckled and packed up his weapons.  "If only everyone was that easy going.  Spirits, you should have heard some of the complaints we got at C-Sec...  So, many, _angry_ , humans...  According to my father, it took the rest of us a week to figure out what the problem was.  Funny, now, but not so much back then."

"I'd believe it," Shepard mumbled while gathering the rest of their crap.  "We're agents of chaos, Garrus.  Stirring up trouble is what we do best."

They shared a smile and hoisted bags over shoulders.  The two tired survivors clapped each other on the back, took a steadying breath, and walked out the airlock in tandem; each bracing their weight on the other.  

 

However, when they opened the doors, there was a giant crowd of people that hadn't been there previously.  Worse yet, they were all gawking.

Garrus didn't register the sight until he ran into someone.  Shepard was just grateful for her sweatshirt.

"Excuse me!" an asari called as they pushed their way through the crowd towards them.

"Excuse me!  Hi, Dr. Louis.  Will you please tell me what you were trying to do in there?!"  

The battle couple just blinked in disconnected confusion.  The asari sounded worried, busy, and kind of angry, but they had zero idea why.  

"Um... we're on a date?" Shepard asked with a raised eyebrow, halfway hoping the awkwardness would make everyone between her and the shower stall disappear.  Sadly, it didn't.  

"Do you have _any_ idea what you two have just done?!"  

Mmm, yes.  Now we had graduated to pointing and scolding.  Good.  

"Worked up an appetite?" Garrus offered humorously.  

Shepard gave him a weird look.  "Ew, seriously?  How can you even _think_ about food right now?  That sounds worse than swallowing rocks..."  

Garrus chirped at her.  "What's wrong with swallowing rocks?  Didn't we discuss this?"  

"Ugh!  No!  I mean _actual_ rocks!  Like weights, but in your stomach....you're gross."  

"You know we actually _do_ eat rocks, right?"  

"I repeat.  You're gross."  

"Will you _please_!  Hush!"  

The near delirious couple turned their attention back to the crowd and the angry asari.  Independently, they really hoped they would all move soon so they didn't collapse right in front of them.  That would be very hard to explain...  

The asari took a deep breath and tried to continue calmly.  

"The time limit for survival mode on max difficulty is ten minutes.  After that, the VI is designed to throw out an impossible amount of troops to force combatants to stop before they sustain permanent injury.  Such as overheated biotic implants or torn ligaments!"

Shepard looked up at Garrus with worried eyes.  "Did you tear something?"  

He shrugged.  "Nothing that wasn't already broken.  I'll live."  

"Aww...Now i feel bad."

" _SILENCE!"_   

The little creature was almost purple with rage.  They both had to bite their tongue to prevent laughter from falling out.  

"Do you have _any_ idea how long you were in there for?!"  

They shrugged.  

" _OVER AN HOUR!!"_  

Shepard and Garrus turned upwards in unison towards the scoreboard overhead.

Sure enough.

 

VGSH: 1:09:58.04

ASKN: 45:23.18

JBKG: 20:14.38

Everyone after that was sub then minutes.  

 

"Seriously!" Shepard whined as the hit Garrus in the spur with her knee.  "You couldn't wait another _two_ seconds to get shot?  Lame..."  

Garrus rolled his eyes and chose not to comment.   

"How did you manage it?" the asari chastised accusingly.  "You must have cheated.  The only ones who have ever survived past the ten minute mark had at least one Specter on their team.  Everyone else was cheating, and their scores have been deleted.  So, as the one in charge of this simulation facility, I _demand_ you reveal the weaknesses you exploited!"

Team VGSH looked at each other and started laughing, out loud, and completely obnoxiously.  The truthful answer was something about mutual stubbornness and the terms of future fellatio, but instead Shepard came up with a more family friendly answer.  

"No cheating, Doctor.  Honest.  We're just that good.  See, this baddas, dextro sniper here?  He has some really impressive reach with that rifle."

Garrus barked a laugh.  "And this woman possesses insane... flexibility.  Seriously, you should see some of sticky positions she's been in.  It's a wonder she isn't dead!"

Shepard almost snorted.  "We're kinda used to facing impossible odds.  And that, is the god's honest truth.  If you don't believe us, go ahead!  Wipe our scores.  We'll just have a tiebreaker in the shower."

'Heh," Garrus chuckled. "Good luck cleaning _that_ up.  My last tiebreaker was messy, but with her?  Well, I doubt it will be much better... For you, I mean.  I'll love it."

The crowd was snickering, the asari looked like they were about to pop a blood vessel, but the weary soldiers had run out of patience.  Shepard turned and snapped a picture of their scores with her omnitool, Garrus looked back and did the same with his eye piece, and together they pushed past everyone in their way; limping both happy and wobbly towards the showers.

 


	10. Joint Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tiebreaker"  
> Expectation vs Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wrings hands*
> 
> So...um....I hate to ask, but..... 
> 
> Could some of you lovely readers leave a comment? Even if it's just a thumbs up, or even something bad! I have thick skin, and I promise to not get mad! Those little notes give me life, and I love reading every, single one of them.
> 
> Thanks. You know, in advance.

The best thing about elcor is their size.  They are beautiful, massive creatures and even krogan look small when standing shoulder to shoulder with one. 

What makes that feature so great is the way their soldiers strap giant railguns to their backs and march in like living tanks.  

The second best reason to love every last scrap of that staggering, hulking mass found in elcor kind is the accommodations given to them on the Citadel.  Though not a Council race just yet, one in every ten Citadel citizens is an elcor.  Therefore, by law, at least one in every ten of every public utility has to be large enough, strong enough, heavy enough, or powerful enough to accommodate them.  Very much like disabled parking spaces on Earth, or why every sidewalk has a ramp, or why public buildings don't have doorknobs. 

That's why, even though only roughly one in every hundred elcor could even use the Citadel combat simulators, and fewer still would think to partake in the public showers, three out of the thirty bathing stalls were elcor sized.  One of them (rather luckily) also happened to be the one in leftmost corner, very furthest from the entrance. 

Today, at roughly 11am, this shower was occupied, but not by an elcor. 

Instead, the patrons inside were a female human and a male turian who weren't doing much of anything at all; just sitting under the hot spray.  On the ground, legs out, backs bent, eyes fading, utterly sore, and using the very last of their strength to lazily pass a cigarette back and forth. 

Well, it started life as a cigarette.  Now it was a two-tone hybrid of Marlboro Red and Quarian Blue.  A one-two knockout punch of levo tobacco and dextro kush that, sometimes, soldiers like them needed after almost dying in a box full of neck-high krogan holocrap. 

"Sorry this is your tiebreaker..."  

"Oh, no, please.  This is absolutely fine." 

"Good.  Because I've already ordered my done-ion rings..." 

"Huh?"  

"It means I'm pooped."  

"Well.  That's revolting." 

"I'm  _ exhausted _ , jackass!"  

"So am I, but that's no reason to..." 

"It's an expression!  God  _ damnit _ , man!  Mr. Literal over here..." 

"In my defense, you are being translated." 

"Oh.  Right.   ...Sorry." 

"It's fine.  Just... here." 

Shepard took the little hand rolled paper and took a long drag.  Garrus slowly let the vapor tumble out under his mandibles.  Neither of them bothered to look up from their feet, despite the constant spray splashing up into their eyes from the tile floor. 

From what they could tell, no one else was in here.  Occasionally someone would use the restroom portion towards the entrance, or refill a cantine from the sink, but, so far, only two people found it necessary to bathe in this area of the Citadel at 11am on a Friday...for probably obvious reasons. 

Garrus huffed a curse as the tiny remaining embers of the roach were extinguished by a rogue drop of water.  Shepard giggled at him, mostly because she was starting to see those pointed fingers less like deadly claws and more akin to delicate tweezers. 

"Where'd you even get that stuff anyway?"  

Garrus ground the burnt stub out and into the water, letting the current send it all down the drain. 

"I could ask you the same thing.  Thought for sure you'd quit..."  

Shepard turned up the huffed sarcasm to hide her ounce of shame. 

"Well, you know what they say!  Bring her back  _ exactly  _ the way she was!  Don't accidentally slip in any of those 'seamless upgrades' like we did on her ship.  That would be just... just tragic." 

Garrus chuckled and put an arm around her shoulders with a reassuring little shake and rub.  She leaned into it, lolling her head over and onto his chest with a tired look in her glazed eyes.  Wet, stringy hair clung to the sides of her face, sticking to the skin of her neck, and falling over onto a warm, fawn-colored, leather wall of security beside her. 

"I'm sorry..." he purred softly, resting the healthy side of his face against the top of her head.  Shepard hummed a tiny note of thanks and huddled closer.   

She didn't like to admit that she was rebuilt bothered her.  She didn't want to look this 'golden opportunity' in the mouth.  Literally countless people would be eternally grateful to Cerberus, and surely untold numbers of others deserved a second chance more than she did...  However, here it was.  This is how the chips fell, and now she had no choice but to live with the guilt and the doubt as self-consciousness slowly consumed her.  Peachy. 

"For what it's worth," the turian above her rumbled in that signature, whisper quiet, and deeply layered tone she so secretly treasured.  "I don't think you need any upgrades.  Who you were-- and who you still are-- is more than enough for me, Shepard.  Never change." 

She smiled into his almost slippery plates; they brought back memories of walking barefoot on warm stepping stones in a garden after a summer rain.  If she closed her eyes, she could almost see sun rays peeking through those low-hanging pillows of black-blue clouds and smell the humidity of the grass.  

"You too," Shepard hummed as the last of her fever and pain fell away.  "Never change." 

The edges Garrus's plates ground together, slowly slipping over one another as he shifted to look at her better.  He almost seemed to sigh. 

"I--That's not a promise I can make, Shepard.  You may be more or less the same, but..."  

Shepard stopped him with a weak smile and an arm around the base of his hump. 

"Hey, chin up!  I think you changed for the better.  Doey-eyed, metermaid Garrus was sheltered and... honestly?  A little cringe worthy.  No offense."  

Garrus rolled his eyes and scoffed.  "I'm sorry trying to be a decent person is such a turn off for you..."  

Shepard swayed him playfully.  "That's not what I'm saying.  Well, maybe a little.  That's not the point."  She shook her head and tried again.  "I'm saying there's a difference between selling your soul and just growing up.  Good, bad, or ugly; life just...happens, ya know?  Maybe it was our fault, maybe it wasn't, but it doesn't really matter in the end.  Either way, life scars us all to some degree..."  Shepard looked up at him with a devilish smirk.  "...Some are just more dashing than others." 

Mandibles flicked with a coy, turian smile.  "Are you trying to make me blush?  If so, you're going to be waiting for a very long time."  

Silky, naked shoulders shrugged.  "Eh, I can wait.  But I'll get you one day."  

Garrus exhaled with a long, huffed noise that didn't translate and just looked off into empty space towards the wall.  

"Tali," he answered randomly.  "I got it from Tali.  Have since the SR1 days." 

Shepard snickered.  "Why am I not surprised...  Here I was thinking stereotypes were rude and inaccurate ways of judging people." 

He looked back with a bit of side-eye.  "Works, doesn't it?"  

"Well...." she drew out with hesitant admission.  "Yeah, I can't argue with you there.  I do feel a lot better...and you always were an 'ends justify the means' kinda guy." 

Garrus looked at her almost nervously, like he was waiting for some kind of backlash or at very least a clear answer, so Shepard just rolled her eyes and gave it to him.  

"Oh, alright.  You and the quarian can keep your little secret, just keep it out of sight, okay?  Obviously, I don't care, but if I'm on duty I will be forced to reprimand you both.  Also, don't... you know, man the weapon systems while you're..."  

Garrus busted into laughter.  

"Shepard!  Are you  _ seriously _ asking  _ me _ , the turian, to not let something private interfere with my ability to work?  Really??"  

She huffed her lips.  "I mean... yeah?  Because isn't that what I'm supposed to do?  Issue the obligatory, obvious warning so I can officially say that I did in case of a dispute?  Not that I believe it would come to that but....  Hey!  I do  _ try  _ to be professional!  Ya know... sometimes...  when I have to..." 

"Shep, you're high, and sitting naked in a public shower stall with your turian gunnery officer." 

She raised a finger.  "Who I'm also dating, for the weekend, and have slept with multiple times.  Don't forget that little gem."  

"Well," he purred dryly.  "At least you're friends with the guy.  That whole scenario would be far more awkward if you weren't." 

"True," she chuckled.  "Very, very true..." 

Shepard looked up at him with a 'what the heck am I going to do with you' smile and Garrus returned it, though he seemed to know the answer but wasn't keen on telling. 

"I think I like this, Garrus," she lilted while leaning back into the lukewarm spray, fully wetting her hair again while he inwardly tensed up. 

"You do?" he questioned nervously while hiding subvocals.  "What part?"  

"This," Shepard answered while blindly gesturing to the air between them.  "If nothing else comes out of this weekend, I hope we keep this part of our new dynamic alive.  I like to think we were friends before but it was always so... formal and stuffy.  It's nice to see you work that stick in your butt and just hang out for a while.  I like it." 

Garrus looked around to hide his suddenly flapping jawbones, but otherwise managed to keep it together. 

"I believe that is commonly referred to as having a 'best friend' or so I'm told.  Family too, I guess, if you are lucky enough to be in an agreeable relationship with them." 

"I guess we are like family," Shepard mused while shifting to her knees in an attempt to break her couchlock.  "You, me, Tali, Joker, and Chakwas... and Wrex, when he's not too busy ruling a pile of rubble.  Everyone else is fine, but it's... different.  Somehow."  

Garrus offered her a braced arm to lean against while she stood on shaky, mostly numb legs.  "I understand that.  We went through a lot back then, and the new people just aren't the same.  Fine people, mostly, and very good at what they do..."  

".. But it's not the same," Shepard finished while bracing against the wall and extending a hand.  "Not yet anyway.  Maybe one day, but for now?"  

Garrus took her hand and they worked together to heave the heavy turian to his feet.  The momentum turned to his advantage and Shepard's body was pulled close while the fingers not entwined with hers curled around the small of her back. 

"For now," he purred with smoldering, liquid nitrogen eyes.  "I like this too." 

Heads fell together like it was second nature.  Four arms slipped over cowl and ribs through the veil of lingering steam and the unlikely pair held their embrace under warm rain.  The closeness filled a void inside them both; a secret hole kept hidden from the outside world but still something that ached every minute of every day.  An elcor sized room, stashed far in the back.  Huge, but allowed to stay empty and mostly forgotten given the relative importance of everything else around it.  A place that could only be found by someone who knew where it was, and could only be brought to life by another just as dead. 

A spark, a touch, a too heavy breath.  Anything at all could have set them off, but the outcome was the same.  Faces tilted the slightest fraction and lips, both soft and firm, parted just enough to touch.  Slowly, gently mouths became one with an almost mindless melting of tonge tips.   

A little suck.  A brush to the side.  Plates were on neck skin, harmless teeth were under mandibles, and they were at it again.  Gripping, pressing, pulling and ignoring the growing sounds of their desperate, hollow panting.  It felt too good to stop.  It just felt too damn good to stop! 

Then, something slammed and they shot upright with mild heart attacks like two teens hearing parents come home.  People, at least three or four of them, had entered their previously private bathing oasis with loud conversing and banging locker doors.  It was the world reminding them that it was still there, that time was still marching on, and this union was living on precious seconds before the cacophony of life went back to becoming the norm. 

Also, Shepard's stomach growled.  Which didn't help. 

Garrus softened the blow with a reassuring nuzzle.  "Come on, let's clean up and get out of here...or does the concept of lunch still strike you as disgusting?" 

She giggled the blush of shock away.  "No, food sounds fantastic.  There's a reason you never see a fat biotic.  Those barriers aren't cheap..." 

"Good!" Garrus exclaimed with a playful peck as he stepped back.  "Because I'm starving and, by the sound of it, you are too." 

She nodded and they moved to separate universal soap dispensers on opposite walls of the oversized stall.  Then, over half an hour after they entered, finally began cleaning the sweat and shrapnel off. 

Shepard couldn't help but laugh to herself.  The way they effortlessly passed back and forth, taking turns underneath the showerhead, often without even bothering to open their eyes... It seemed she wasn't the only one with experience bathing intandem.  As she snuck a peek at her companion's back in passing, part of Shepard wondered who she was, or who  _ he _ was perhaps.  What was the story behind that temporary partnership, and how did it eventually end? 

Honestly, it was hard to imagine Garrus with another turian at all.  A ridiculous notion, of course, and she knew it, but it was still very difficult to picture.  Probably because, before Thursday night at the bar, Shepard had never even  _ seen _ a female turian much less understood what made one attractive. 

Plates on plates.  Spurs hooked together.  Mandibles interlocked between matching sets of metal teeth... 

Nope.  Still couldn’t see it.  Like...at all.  What was wrong with her?   _ This _ was weird,  _ that  _ was normal. Right?  

"So, who were they?" Shepard asked while rinsing her face. 

"Who was who?" Garrus trilled, looking up half startled while rubbing foam into the cracks of his head. 

"The tiebreaker person," she answered casually, checking for suds. 

"Oh."   _ Hmm...that sounded awkward.   _ "um...Just someone I used to serve with while still in the military.  Years ago.  I don't even remember her name, as embarrassing as that is.  Why do you want to know?" 

Shepard switched to let him have the water and moved towards the curtain with an easy smile. 

"No reason.  One train of thought lead to another...that's all."  She backed out into the dressing section.  "I'm done if you are." 

"Sure.  Be right there." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Garrus smokes pot in his off time and Tali is his dealer because the quarians have the best hyrdoponics in the galaxy. No one can convince me otherwise....because this HC is hilarious.


	11. The Opposite of Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus mentions the dextro rations suck...so Shepard grants him access to her secret stash.
> 
> After that? Shopin', shopin', shopin'....
> 
> The Illusive Man (aka Tim) is gonna _FLIP_ when he sees the bill...oh well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS!! THE LOST CHAPTER I FORGOT TO POST! SORRY!
> 
> Also, because this is part of a larger work, I added a little flashback here to help flesh out TIM and his black card as well as parts of my crazy Shepard's tragic/scary/disturbing backstory. Enjoy.

The Presidium was always bright, but as she blinked and shielded her eyes, Shepard could have sworn that it shown a little stronger at midday.   

How could anyone live up here?  Maybe humans just had an archaic circadian rhythm, but...  _ still _ .  This would make her go insane.  

"How can anyone live up here?"  She asked aloud while trying to adjust her eyes to the stark white of their surroundings.  "It's always so bright!  Look, I know there's no sun, and it's all artificial, but all of our planets have a day-night cycle of  _ some _ degree, right?"  

"They do," Garrus offered while walking towards a destination he hadn't felt the need to disclose.  "But that's why there are no permanent residences in the Presidium.  Officially, at least.  A few of the bureaucrats and business owners live in their offices or behind their store fronts—like the asari consort— but they control the lighting inside their own establishments.  The rest of us go home to the wards when our shifts end.  That's why those stay dark." 

Shepard looked up at him with a touch of childhood wonder.  Garrus was strutting around this station like he owned it, and Shepard was starting to wonder if that was a little bit true. 

"Is it good to be home?" she questioned casually.  

He nodded.  "It's not really home, not anymore, but it's close enough." 

"How long did you live here?"  

"Hmm... About ten years, I think.  I moved here when I was eighteen, and left two years ago, so... I suppose it's closer to six."  He huffed slightly.  "Feels longer though.  My father worked here for most of his life, so my family often came here to visit."  

"Seems so strange..." Shepard mused while looking around.  "Living on one planet, but working on a station a relay jump away...  It's almost like living in the country and commuting to the city for work, except the whole planet feels like countryside compared to this..."  She caught herself with shrug.  "At least, Earth does.  Can't speak for Palaven."  

Garrus adjusted the bag on his shoulder with a silent chuckle of mandibles.  "Palaven is not what you would call underdeveloped—Cipritine is one of the largest cities in the galaxy and stretches over a quarter of the continent—but most places look small compared to the scale and scope of the Citadel."  He nudged her slightly with a hip.  "It's amazing what can be accomplished when multiple cultures come together, wouldn't you say?"  

Shepard snickered and bumped him back.  "Oh yeah!  Totally.  Cross-species liaisons are the best.   _ Very _ productive."  

Garrus gave her a wink and they laughed it off before dropping back into comfortable silence.  

A few blocks later, they came to a shipping depot and stopped at the kiosk.  They offloaded their bags and extra weapons into a single box and Shepard used her credentials to send it all back to the Normandy.  It would all be loaded into the hold in a locked container to be safely stored until she or her crew could unload it and return the crate.  Sure, there was a daily rental fee, but it was small and, well, that's what TIM's black card was for.  

Load lighted to just the clothes on their backs—Shepard in her boots, unbranded cargo pants, and same grey sweatshirt and Garrus still proudly donning his X-49 set—they resumed the search for food.  A few twists and a set of stairs later, Garrus lead them to a strangely familiar looking lunch cart.  Honestly, it looked like a food truck, and Shepard began to wonder how long these things and been around without her noticing.  

The small, hovering container smelled heavenly and the cheerful salarian and asari inside served basic fare from all walks of life.  Shepard jumped at the chance to order a gyro, while Garrus ended up with something like that looked like an entire, baked fish on a skewer.  It was probably a very pretty fish once, green and blue camouflage patterned and shaped like a small gar...except, now it was crispy and all the fins had been cut off.  Shepard momentarily wondered if that was a meal or a snack for him, but the ease in which he ordered it made her think it was kind of like a hotdog for turians.  

"You know," Shepard teased between bites.  "You probably shouldn't spoil your appetite...assuming that candlelight dinner is still on the table, of course." 

Garrus chuckled while picking a strip of flesh off his fish.  "Don't worry, our reservation isn't until 20:30." 

Shepard raised a brow.  "You already made reservations?  Wow, you  _ are  _ efficient."  

He swallowed his bite with pride.  "I like having a plan.  Besides, I wouldn't miss this dinner for anything.  Not only will the company be second to none, but it will be one of the best meals I've had in years...."  Garrus snapped his mouth closed with a dull snap he tried to hide and looked away. 

Shepard's eyes grew wide.  "Vakarian..." she warned.  "Finish the thought." 

He shook his head with mouth firmly closed. 

"Garrus...."  

"Okay, fine..." he groaned.  "But, promise to not take it personally?"  

"I've got thick skin, you know that." Shepard answered in full 'commander' tone.  "Now, I smell a grievance.  Air it out.  I can take it."  

Garrus flicked mandibles nervously, steadied himself, and let it out.  "The dextro rations on the Normandy are... not the best.  They're fine, really, but the verity is lacking.  I have no doubt that Gardner does his best, but—I imagine it's what the levo rations would be if Tali and I were in charge of ordering them.  No offense.  Really.  I...I didn't mean--" 

"Done," Shepard answered with confidence while pulling up her omnitool.  "You should know better than to suffer in silence, Vakarian.  After all, didn't I  _ just  _ say a little while ago that you and Tali are, secretly, two of my favorite people?  One of only four that I really trust?"  She shrugged a little and kept typing while trying to keep her sandwich from spilling onto the ground.  "Honestly, I'm more offended that you would think I wanted you to starve." 

Garrus looked down at her with a shocked blink when his omnitool pinged.  For a moment, he couldn't find the words. 

"Sh-Shepard?  Did... Is this what I think it is?"  

She nodded and returned to her food.  "If you think it's access to TIM's nearly bottomless credit account then, yes, yes it is.  From now on, you and Tali are in charge of the dextro rations.  Order whatever you like.  Drain him dry for all I care."  

Garrus fumbled anxiously.  "Won't he... um... notice?  Decline the charges?"  

 

__

_ "Yeah.  Here's the thing Tim…" _

_ "Don’t call me-" _

_ "Shut up, Tim.  …..See, fr _ _ om where I'm standing, it looks like you need me a hell of a lot more than I need you.  I didn't ask to be brought back, you did that on your own.  Therefore, I owe you nothing.  I could stick a plasma round in my eye, right now, and be no worse off than I was a few hours ago." _

_ "Shepard!  We brought you back from a frozen corpse that fell from orbit.  Do you think a gunshot wound is a threat?" _

_ A shrug.  A wrist flick.  A still warm barrel burns itself into a raw eye socket.  _

_ "Then I'll do it again.  And again.  And again.  We can keep doing this dance forever, Tim.  In the end, it's far cheaper and faster to just give me what I want." _

_ Gun pushes harder.  For a moment, she thinks about it.   _

_ "You're a business man. Take the easy way out before I do." _

_ Oh... Tim was pissed. _

_ "FINE!  What could you possibly want Shepard?!" _

_ "Your black card."   _

_ "My what?!" _

_ *sigh* don't play dumb.  _

_ "Ok… your JP Morgan Palladium, Merrill Octave, Eurasian Diamond, or Dubai Royale then!  Whatever!  I know you have one.  Now give it to me, or I blow my brains out." _

_ The holographic man's hands curled into slow fists. _

_ "I rebuilt the Normandy for you!  I hired every former crew member I could, and have leads to help you find the ones I couldn't!  I even have dossiers for new recruits with very valuable assets that I think will mesh with your leadership style!  I brought you back from the dead when you were nothing more than meat!   And now you're trying to rob me?!  You have some nerve Shepard!" _

_ Another shrug.  _

_ "All without consent.  But thanks for anticipating my next few requests.  That will make the rest of this meeting go so much faster."   _

_ Finger twitches on a trigger.  He jumps in his chair.  It would be so easy to go back to sleep. _

_ "Come on...Tim!  All you have to do is put your biggest, badest, no-limit credit card in this hand and all your problems go away."   _

_ A pause.  A hardened glare. _

_ "Oh, and if you cancel it later, or decline any of the charges, I'll make sure the next Commander Shepard corpse you steal is delivered in a bucket.  Good luck reviving that, Tim." _

_ The image in front of her was just a mass of blue particles, but she could tell the man's face was as red as her hair.  He punched the arm of his chair and her omnitool pinged. _

_ << New Credit Account Added:  American Express Centurion  ****66 >> _

_ A holstered gun.  A click of a tongue.  _

_ "Aww… AmEx?  You ARE a dick." _

 

 

"Nope!" Shepard replied with brightness, only slightly shaken by the memory.  "We have an... understanding.  All purchases will be routed through my ID anyhow—as long as we're on the same network—so TIM won't even know the difference.  Go nuts, my friend.  Lord knows I do." 

Garrus had an enthusiastic look on his face; very similar to someone realizing their lottery ticket matched the winning numbers, but hadn't quite accepted the true depth of their importance yet. 

"I'm guessing this isn't something everyone else has access to, correct?"  

Shepard barked a laugh.  "Oh no!  Miranda doesn't even know I  _ have  _ it!  No one does!  It was just a deal between me and TIM."  She shot a coy wink in his direction.  "What can I say?  Loyalty has its perks." 

The turian visibly deflated with a silent but joyful exhale of shock.   

Looks like the meaning behind holding matching jackpot numbers was finally starting to sink in.  

Suddenly, out of absolute nowhere, Garrus was filthy, stinking rich.  Better yet, every credit spent, stole another credit away from the organization he hated most.  So (unlike any other type of windfall) instead of saving it, there was active motivation to flagrantly  _ spend  _ it on whatever he wanted.   
  


"holy... shit...." 

Shepard cackled at the stymied reaction.  "Yep!  Feels pretty good, don't it?"  

  
If she hadn't been snickering so hard at his stupid face, Shepard might have picked up the dull roar of vibration coming in from her right.  However, the situation being what it was, she didn't.  Therefore, the unarmed woman in street clothes had zero warning before being completely swept off her feet and nearly slammed into a nearby wall with unbridled enthusiasm.

The human's laughter  _ may _ have been interrupted by an undignified squeak.  Some unfortunate onlooker  _ could _ have  _ maybe _ called it a 'girly scream', but that person would have to have complete disregard for their personal safety.  If those words had been uttered in her presence, Shepard would have executed said onlooker on the spot. Therefore, that opinion is ill advised.   

As it was, Shepard would later recall her sounds made during this particular encounter as a 'peep of surprise, but nothing more'.  In private, however, Vakarian maintained that it was 'totally a girly scream'. 

Grey-blue eyes blinked open to shocking dimness and human lungs gasped for air, though found very little.  The rumbling earthquake busting through the metal shell around her shook Shepard's body hard enough to chatter the roots of her teeth.  An enormous wall of thick armor and heated stone completely surrounded her, save the block of cool concrete that supported a small section of her back.  Her ribs closed tighter and the strangest thought popped into her head.  

_  
This must be what toothpaste feels like...  _

  
"Thank you, Shepard," the shaking bulk around her rumbled, voice shaking with the force of vibration like it was sitting on a jackhammer.  "I don't deserve this, but... thank you.  For everything.  Spirits, what did I  _ do??"  _

A warm, slightly wet, barely course object touched the skin of her neck and trailed behind her ear in a alien kiss of gratitude. 

Oh, right, the near crushing force of a turian bear hug.   Now she remembered.  Damn, after three of these in (basically) one day, one would think they would be less shocking by now... but they weren't.   

As arms lifted up to wrap around a plated neck, part of her hoped they never would. 

"You did what you're best at," Shepard whispered smoky into his ear.  "Shooting long range targets, and being really,  _ really _ fucking lucky." 

  
Boa constrictor arms squeezed even tighter.  Something pleasant snapped in her spine, but the desire to breathe defeated her and she was forced to tap out. 

Shepard's feet hit the floor and Garrus apologized profusely, though she couldn't imagine why. 

He was wringing his hands.  What a hopeless dork... 

She kissed him on the mandible anyway.  Awkwardness and lack of confidence had, historically, been instant deal breakers.  However, when you looked  _ that _ good and could shoot  _ that _ well, maybe a little weakness was forgivable.  Hell, it was almost cute. 

You know... for a turian badass. 

Also, the sex was good so it was probably better to keep him around... *ahem* what? 

  
"So?" Shepard nudged as she pulled away from both a turian and her worrisome train of thought.  "We've got roughly...eight hours before dinner.  What's next on your agenda, Casanova?" 

Garrus cleared his throat, shaking the last of his embarrassing reaction and trying to find his misplaced game face.  This was supposed to be a first date, of sorts.  Was he trying to make a good first impression or not? 

"Right," he coughed.  "Well, this changed things a little bit, but...I may have an idea."  Shepard raised an eyebrow of intrigue, and Garrus slipped right back into his signature smoothness.  "Want to go shopping?  I imagine there's still a few places on this station you haven’t seen yet." 

"Sure," she replied happily.  "What women doesn't like spending someone else's money, right?" 

Garrus laughed with a headshake and lead them out of the ally he had previously ducked into.  On the way out, they nearly tripped over a keeper who was picking up the remains of their forgotten lunch.  It was mostly eaten anyway.  Slightly embarrassed, they side-stepped the creature in synchronized, fake innocence and carried on.  Best not disturb the keepers... 

  
  
They passed by the lake, taking a moment to appreciate that the krogan statue had survived Sovereign's assault on the station. 

"Of all the things that survived," Garrus mused quietly.  "That thing made it." 

"Must be made of pretty tough stuff....but, I hear most krogan are." 

Shepard couldn't think of anything better to say.  She was too busy enjoying the fact that Garrus's black-clad arm was still draped over her shoulders and had been since they dodged the keeper cleaning up their accidental litter. 

  
  
A skycar pulled up when Garrus typed something into a terminal.  He opened the door for her and Shepard smiled through a subtle blush as she climbed in.  Maybe it was nice being a woman sometimes. 

He sat down in the driver's seat and the vehicle lifted up effortlessly.  Shepard watched him work the console out of the corner of her eye.  She couldn't understand how anyone could pilot anything using only their hands.  Garrus maneuvered the skycar like he was born in one, just like he used to do when she dubbed him "Official Mako Driver" back in the day.  That position was supposed to be punishment—a snap decision made out of anger after a geth-filled volcano almost swallowed her whole because she couldn't figure out the damn thing's controls.  However, "Baby C-Sec" rose to the occasion with minimal effort and made her look like a fool.  It was infuriating, at the time, but she couldn't argue with the increased survival rate. 

"You're not thinking about  _ driving _ again, are you?" Garrus teased when he caught her watching. 

Shepard crossed her arms and huffed a bit.  "No.  Just trying to figure out how  _ you  _ can.  I'll take wheels, pedals, and a stick shift any day." 

He chuckled.  "How civilized of you.  I assume this machine runs on combusting, carbon-based fuel too?" 

"Um..duh!" 

"Okay.  Enjoy not having a habitable planet." 

"Says the guy from a radiation bubble!" 

"At least the air is clean...and not constantly ravaged by storms." 

"Whatever...  I  _ can _ drive.  Just not this space-aged shit." 

"Sure.  Anything you say,  _ Commander. _ " 

"Bite me." 

"Hm...maybe later." 

"I hate you." 

  
  
Garrus was still humming in amusement when they landed.  Shepard felt like a caveman—a _ baby  _ caveman—who had been shot into a sci-fi movie on accident, but that was fairly standard fare.  Some days, it was easy to pretend that all of this felt normal.  It was normal, she hadn't sat behind the wheel of a real car in over a decade, however you can take a girl away from Earth, but you can't take the Earth out of the girl.   

Days like this both embarrassed and depressed her.  She fought every day to prove that humans were capable of being productive, honest members of galactic society.  That her people weren't the primitive, racist, monkeys everyone seemed to think they were (and for good reason, mostly).  However, she also missed her old way of life.  Ground based transport, glass smartphones (or really phones at all), guns that shot bullets, movies on disks, photographs on paper, wired headsets that blasted old music no one bothered to recopywrite...  

...and sleeping on dirt.  Always being hungry and cold.  Living with unstable rage. 

...killing every non-human in sight in an attempt to "stop an invasion" and "preserve Earth's way of life".   

Blowing up Houston Air and Spaceport... 

Skinning people alive... 

Turning their plates, claws, and crests into armor... 

...And what she did to the poor, Lady Liberty? 

  
Maybe those weren't really 'good ol' days' after all. 

  
A three-fingered hand opened the door.  Time to smile! 

 

"Question," her non-human date purred none the wiser. 

"Answer," she chirped without a hint of hesitation. 

"Is... _ that _ the only outfit you own?" 

Shepard stood up defiantly, but as the car flew away to its next set of passengers she looked down at her plain, oversized, grey sweatshirt and frumpy, Cerberus-issued cargo pants.  She knew it was far from flattering, but... 

"Yeah," she admitted sheepishly.  "You know, other than the outfit I wore to the bar yesterday and all my Cer- uh, standard uniform stuff.  Why?" 

Garrus tilted his head and eyed her with a mischievous face twitch, but said nothing. 

"To be honest," Shepard continued with a shrug.  "This shirt used to be Jacobs.  He gave it to me on the way to Omega because he... figured I needed it more." 

The visor-covered eye narrowed suspiciously.  It almost looked angry. 

"Hm.  How did that happen?" 

Shepard rolled her eyes and moved over to a nearby bench.  Garrus didn't take the hint to drop it and followed her, just as serious as he was a moment ago.  She flopped onto the chair.  He stopped with arms crossed in front of her. 

"Look," she pleaded while rubbing her face, "It's not what you think." 

He didn't move.  Shepard sighed a groan and held her face in her hands.  She hated confessing. 

"I...had a pretty rough first couple of days after being brought back.  Honestly, I'm glad you weren't there to see it.  Jacob caught me in a...  _ particularly _ bad mood and was surprisingly understanding.  He used to be Alliance too, so when I told him that working for...you know...was kinda making me sick, he got it.  So, he gave me this, just so I didn't have to look in the mirror and see a giant 'C' every second of every day..."   

Shepard looked up and let her hands flop.  "That's why I brought him to Omega, and why I left him with you while Zaeed and I cleared out the basement.  Jacob is one of the good ones, no matter who he works for.  I don't trust him as much as some people, obviously, but it's close.  He helped me throw some...really ugly shit.  I don't want to talk about it anymore...okay?" 

Garrus dropped his defensive stance and sat next to her on the bench, slipping an arm around her shoulder in understanding.  Shepard fell into the touch and tried to not get stuck in another nasty memory.  She hated being weak... 

  
"I apologize, Shepard.  That was impolite."  She nudged him with her head to accept it, and he continued a bit happier.  "The reason I ask is—would you like to go pick out a few more outfits?  Maybe...something to wear to dinner tonight?" 

She sat up and waved him off.  "Oh no, please, I'm not going to drag you through clothes shopping with me.  That’s no fun for anyone.  I can do that on my own time." 

"But, this  _ is _ your free time," he purred in that ever convincing tone.  "And I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want come with you.  These credits are as much mine as they are yours. 

"Also, I have this feeling that if someone doesn't  _ make _ you indulge yourself, you'll be wearing that unflattering sweater forever." 

Shepard hid behind a hand and kicked herself.  He was right, again, of course.  She had no idea when they would come back here next, or even if they  _ ever  _ would.  If she didn't restock her wardrobe this weekend, it would be Cerberus uniforms, sleeping in underwear, this grey mess, and one slutty dress from now until the Reapers came. 

Garrus shifted slightly beside her.  "Unless, of course, I'm dead wrong and this whole idea is incredibly insulting.  In which case, I apologize, again, and...um... I have no idea what I'm doing here, Shepard." 

She fell back into her hands again, but this time it was to hide her beet-red face.  Her shoulders were shaking with sincere laughter and she begged herself to calm down before the reaction sent the wrong signals.   

What on earth had she gotten herself into this time?  Who  _ was _ she?  Laughing, blushing, and acting like a child instead of the battle-hardened soldier she was.  What was happening? 

Then, she figured it out.  This was called, "being normal".  She had agreed to let her friend take her on a 'date' for his own sanity, but instead he had turned it around on her in a blink.  Now she was the one being treated like royalty and it felt...good?  hmm... 

  
"Can I be honest for a second?"  Shepard asked with a sheepish smile.  "I have no idea what I'm doing either.  I've never been on a real 'date' (yes, she used air quotes) before.  It's always been sitting at a bar until someone cute walked up; then taking them home and never calling them again.  Even Liara and I never had the chance to leave the Normandy.  I..."  She shrugged with defeat.  "I'm as clueless as you are.  Actually, if I had to guess, you're probably the leading expert between the two of us." 

Garrus looked away and rubbed his neck nervously.  "No, I—well, not an expert by any means.  Especially not with human customs." 

"Then take me on a turian date," she added playfully.  "I don't care.  Probably can't even tell the difference." 

He shook his head and face plates clapped.  "Oh, no...  I bet you could..."  Shepard opened her mouth to speak, but with a random boost of courage, Garrus stopped the dangerous spiral of conversation.  He stood from the bench, playfully pulled Shepard up by her arm, put on a smile, and started faking it until she (hopefully) started believing that he wasn't scared to death. 

"But who cares about traditions anyway?  I know you, Shepard.  Your looks are directionally proportional to how good you feel.  If you feel bad, you don't put in a lot of effort.  But, if you look bad, your mood suffers.  That's negative feedback loop, and, like you said, we  _ all _ need to be at our best if we're gonna win this thing."  

Garrus leaned in with a look and a smirk that he already figured out made Shepard weak at the knees (even if she would never admit it) and attempted to turn up the charm.   

"You  _ destroyed  _ the simulator's leaderboard, you're not hungry anymore,  _ and _ you had a very...eventful night.  So, I'm willing to wager you feel pretty good.  And I  _ know _ you look good underneath that jacket.  Now, will you please indulge your crazy friend for a bit and go shopping with me?" 

Shepard had her lips curled in, holding back both a laugh and a blush, but when he finished she fanned herself straight and answered. 

"I'm sorry.  I'm still stuck on the fact that a turian just told me to throw tradition out the window..." 

Garrus half growled, quickly getting bored of standing here, then bit his tongue and tried again.  

"That's it.  You're clearly too stubborn to accept any form of kindness willingly, so..."  He grinned in her face with eyes full of mischief  "I suppose I will have to insist.  It's for your own good." 

With a mostly joking (but also not) old rendition of a C-Sec maneuver, Garrus spun Shepard's arm behind her, pinned the other one mid twist, and proceeded to march the woman towards a nearby storefront like she was being arrested for disorderly conduct.  The closer they got, the more she started to protest, but Garrus held firm.  After all, he used to be very good at his old job (this part anyway) and she was  _ not  _ the first human he had lead into custody. 

  
Part of him felt bad for this, but most of him didn't.  This had been his plan from the start, but the sudden increase of funds was going to make it a lot more fun.  Now that he knew Shepard  _ could _ clean up nice, Garrus didn't want to see her looking disheveled ever again.  Perhaps it was a selfish request, but how bad could spoiling one woman be?  If Shepard didn't deserve nice things, who did? 

Even as the woman in his grip tried to back out like he was dragging her onto a dance floor, Garrus's mind began to wonder.  This place held infinite possibilities that ran the gamut from amusing to jaw-dropping and he was ready for any and all of it. 

This must have been how Sol felt.  He used to be hopeless too, but his little sister was born with their mother's innate sense of style... and the little spitfire forced Garrus to take lessons before every, single one of his pre-arranged dates.  The relationships with the women never worked out, but it didn't stop Sol from marching him, in very much the same manner, into a clothing store to hammer a sense of style into his thick, practicality-worshiping head.  

He should call her. 

  
Shepard finally shook loose with a defeated huff when they reached the doors and Garrus let her go.  For all her complaining, those silver eyes sure lit up bright when she saw what lay inside.  This place wasn't like the shops she was used to, and Garrus knew it.  This place had several stories and sold just about everything.  It was actually rather famous, extremely classy, and known for housing some of the most expensive brands in the galaxy.  It was less of a store, and more like a playground. 

"Holy....fucking....shit....." Shepard breathed while spinning her head in every direction.  "Is...Is this what I think it is?" 

Garrus shrugged and tried to pretend he wasn't loving every second of this.  "I don't know, Shepard.  You're the one who's so avidly against buying expensive things with other people's money." 

"I didn’t know we were going to Bloomingdales!!" She squealed almost breathless.  "I didn't even know the CItadel even  _ had _ one!" 

He looked at her quizzically.  "It's actually Harrod's.  Used to be called something else, I forget what, but some huge, human organization bought it several years ago and changed the name.  That's about all they changed though, so no one really minded." 

Shepard waved a hand over a shoulder and kept staring around in awe.  "Harrods, Bloomingdales, whatever.  It's all the same thing, really.  We had one of these in New York!  I...I never thought I'd see it again." 

Garrus leaned back on a display and just took in the tiny woman's shocked joy.  "So I've heard.  Owned by the same company or something.  The London store is still there, but the New York branch was forced to close when local rebellions destroyed it.  Decided to moved up here instead and...  Hey, what's up?" 

While he had been making small talk, mostly absently while imagining this woman in designer clothes, Shepard had gone a little ridgid.  She was biting a broken nail and wouldn't turn to look at him.  Something was suddenly bothering her.  But, she was so excited a second ago? 

Garrus pushed off the table he was leaning on and stepped over.  With a reassuring hand on her shoulder, he pushed the broken nail away and hummed to calm her down.  "Don't worry about it.  This will be fun!  It's not our money, remember?" 

Shepard blinked and color started to come back to her face, though she messed with the hood of her sweatshirt like she wanted to pull it over her head and hide.  "Yeah.  Right.  Okay...  Shopping!  Sure.  Just another mission, right?" 

He tilted his head curiously, then tried to ease her fears with a laugh.  "That's right, it's just another mission, and I'll be right here every step of the way.  Actually, I used to be completely lost in here too, but my sister is a very persistent teacher.  I'm sure most of it won't translate, but enough of it might."  He rocked her shoulders.  "Besides, we've faced worse than this.  You're Commander Shepard!  Something in here has to look good on you." 

"I hope so..." She mumbled nervously, feeling very out of her element. 

"I  _ know _ so," he purred back.  "Most women would kill for a body like yours.  I suspect you'll look beautiful in everything you try on." 

Shepard hid in her hands, more awkward than she had ever been on a dancefloor, but still allowed Garrus to lead her through the lobby towards the escalator to the main floor. 

Yeah...  How bad could this be? 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

Result?  Very bad. 

Shepard had managed to locate and order some standard fare—workout clothes, something warm to sleep in, another jacket to wear around that didn't used to be Jacobs—but she was too nervous to try on anything else.  There was no way he was enjoying this.  She was wasting his time and ruining everything.  She thought about picking up another bra, since she only had one that wasn't battle ready, but there was  _ no way _ she was bringing him along for that nightmare.  He refused to tell her where they were going for dinner, so she had no idea what the dress code was and that only made this harder.  Buying one outfit was difficult enough, but manageable with enough intel.  However, replacing her  _ entire _ wardrobe in one go because the last one got burnt to a crisp by the monsters she  _ should  _ be fighting right now?  Damn near impossible...even for her.  

Garrus, honestly, couldn't wrap his head around what the problem was.   And Shepard's constant and intentional vagueness certainly didn't help.  This was the strongest willed person in the universe, but she had spontaneously lost the ability to form an opinion on anything.  It was as confusing as it was frustrating.  He just wanted to help, why couldn't she see that?  Shepard was so beautiful that every second that stupid, shapeless, hoodie stayed on felt like an insult.  He was half tempted to shred it, even if it was just to force her to stop hiding inside it like the damn thing was some sort of security blanket.  Maybe he couldn't take a compliment, but she sure as hell didn't know what to do with an act of kindness!  As a sniper, he had trained himself to have almost limitless patience, but the two of them had far from infinite time.  It had already been two hours and she had only picked out more of the same, basic crap.  Garrus wasn't at his wit's end, but if he stood on his toes, he could see it from here... 

"Excuse me.  Would you two like some help?" 

"Maybe." 

"Spirits, please." 

The snappy dressed, blue angel of mercy stood there with a calm, but knowing smile as she looked over the hopeless couple.  Then, she blinked with recognition and took a half step towards Shepard. 

"Ms. Gunn?  Good to see you again.  I assume your last purchase was to your liking?" 

Shepard blinked twice then cracked into a wide, shocked smile. 

"Oh my god...  Yes!  Hey, I remember you!  Garrus, this is the lovely person who helped me pick out that 'dress' you liked so much." 

Garrus sighed a silent prayer of relief and nodded over the clothes rack to the asari.  "Hi there, Garrus Vakarian, if what she says is true, then I already owe you a great debt.  However, I would be infinitely grateful if you could help us out again." 

The asari in the pants suit, returned the greeting and smiled a little wider at Shepard.  "I assume this man is who we were speaking about the other day?" 

Shepard blushed slightly and nodded.  "He is.  As you can see, our meetup last night was a smashing success." 

Garrus's mouth fell open a little bit as he gawked at Shepard.  "Wait.  You bought that...for  _ me? _  Not just, you know...in general?" 

Shepard blushed a little more.  "Guilty as charged? 

He wanted to tackle her.  Plated gauntlets curled with itchy tension as he suddenly wanted to rip that sweatshirt off for very different reasons.  He almost growled out loud like a savage, but then remembered that the asari would not only hear it but understand what it really meant...which may lead to an awkward conversation later.  So, instead, Garrus bit his tongue, kept his mandibles in check, forced himself to breathe, calmly turned his still burning stare to the blue one (that he also kind of wanted to kiss) and explained their current problem. 

"So..."  He looked at her nametag.  "Tyra.  This...wonderful woman here has always been so generous and sweet, to everyone, and she never fails to go beyond the call of duty.  Therefore, I'm trying to convince her to invest in herself a little, but it's proving difficult..."  He glared at Shepard teasing, but also kind of serious.  "...because she's as stubborn as I am patient!"  

Garrus took a breath to calm down.  "You helped her once, and I completely agree with your sense of taste.  Would you be willing to collaborate with us again to help her replace the rest of her wardrobe?   Maybe find something to wear to dinner tonight?" 

That is what Garrus said out loud, but in the underlying tones he knew only the asari could hear, he simultaneously said, "This woman means everything to me, but she won't take care of herself.  We both know she's gorgeous.  I just want to treat her to something nice.  Also tonight's dinner is important." 

Tyra caught on immediately and, being the professional she was, immediately lead Shepard away from the discount rack she had been hiding in and towards something much more suitable.  Also, she didn't miss the part about how the turian in million credit armor had just said "replace...wardrobe" and "treat her to something nice".  Tyra had worked in fashion sales for over a century and had long learned how to care for her clients' needs with helpful and impartial advice... 

...but, like, the commission percentage was real and her rent wasn't cheap.   Neither was her daughter's magnet school. 

  
Meanwhile, Garrus followed behind both excited and relieved.  However, internally he was kicking himself.  The dinner reservation he made was nice, for sure, but how did  _ that _ implication roll out his mouth so easily?  Maybe that was just his turian nature talking.  Unlike humans, his people were fast daters.  Typically, there were only two kinds of 'dates': hook-ups and interviews.  The first consisted of a chance encounter for a night or two, but the second was a semi-formal meeting arranged between two families to see if their kids liked each other.  Both usually ended in some shameless fun, but if it was preceded by a meeting then the pair was usually bonded soon after.   

Romance wasn't really a thing turians understood.  Either you liked someone or you didn't; on or off, black or white.  Maybe that was a very binary way of looking at things, but his people's comfort zone typically existed in choosing a side.  Love, the lasting kind, typically came from experience.  Going through the ups and downs of life with someone formed a bond much stronger than anything ever cultured in a few months of beating around the bush... 

  
Garrus sat on a bench and shook his head.  That metaphor just went somewhere horrible. 

  
However, when he recovered, he realized that was the root of his problem.  He and Shepard had already done that.  They stood side-by side on the day she became Spectre.  They huddled together on the disgusting, slimy floor in shared pain while their suits slowly healed them from Thorian poison.  He watched as she trash talked Sovereign, a  _ Reaper _ , right to its  _ face _ , and lived to tell about it!   

...when that cooked cop on Noveria slammed Shepard into a corner of concrete, nearly snapping her spine.  How he sat in her room telling stupid C-Sec stories while she lay there on forced bedrest. 

What was that Chakwas said she suffered?  A collapsed lung?  Either way, Garrus remembered,  _ vividly, _ holding a boot knife at Shepard's ribcage while the 'good doctor' screamed through the com for him to stab her.  Eventually, Wrex is the one who smacked the butt of blade to jam it in.  True, Shepard did start breathing again...but  _ how  _ was that a real medical procedure?  What are humans even  _ made _ of? 

  
Garrus looked around cautiously, confirming he was momentarily alone, then pressed the heels of both hands into his eye sockets. 

  
That was it, wasn't it?  That's what was tearing him up so badly.  Together he and Shepard had fought through endless waves of geth, plowed through hordes of krogan...jumped the Mako through a relay.  They shot Saren in the face, blew Sovereign straight to hell, nuked a planet, and that doesn't even include what happened since she came back!  She saved him from certain death on Omega.  They blew up a prison ship while Shepard ran, starry-eyed, towards her new girl-crush.   

Garrus chuckled.  Looking back, that was pretty funny.  It wasn't at the the time, but now that they lived through it?  It wasn't so bad. 

Right... Then she came to him later on, white as a sheet, and holding the most disturbing message he had ever read.  He calmed her down and promised to look into it, and would protect her in the meantime. 

Wonder if Liara ever found any leads on that?  Or about Sidonis... 

  
No, he wasn't thinking about that right now.  Instead he smiled and offered an opinion between two tops.  Get both.  He liked them both. 

  
Which reminded him, should he pay for this?  He swore to never admit this to Shepard, because he knew the knowledge could artificially sway a human woman's opinion (and it was a little shameful), but he was far from broke anymore.  Archangel's team was very prolific, and all the credits they confiscated from slavers and drug dealers had to go somewhere.  Most of it went back to the people of Omega, another portion went to living expenses, and a lot skipped town with Lantar...but what was left was still sizable.  Especially because it wasn't being split twelve ways.  Unfortunately. 

Where those boots or pants she just dissapeared with?  Oh Spirits, please let them be boots... 

Garrus checked his omnitool.  He could absolutely afford anything she bought in here, but should he?  On one hand, what else was he going to spend it on?  On the other hand, wouldn't defunding Cerberus be the better, kinder thing to do?  But, how  _ awesome  _ would it be to see Commander Shepard, walking around in something classy, looking absolutely stunning, and know that he bought it for her?  Better than seeing her wear another man's sweatshirt, that's for sure...  Maybe, it was better to split it?   

Oh!  Or  _ maybe  _ he could buy her something on his own.  Give it to her tonight.  Something shiny.  Human women like shiny things, right?  He'd ask Tyra.  She would know... 

Garrus secretly winced.  Was it acceptable to start showering Shepard with gifts?  She obviously liked to give them, but ordering turian-made cups, a new weapon, some replacement armor, and granting access to another person's credit chit was a little different than surprising a woman with jewelry, right?   Or was it?   

This armor probably cost over half a million credits or more.  Nothing he could buy her would be that expensive, but something told him it wasn't only about what the price tag read.  Perhaps it was better to surprise her with things like gun mods, or a more stable amp (that didn't overheat so badly), or do little favors for her around the Normandy.  Was that...better?  Or is that what platonic friends did?   

He didn't know. 

  
"Mr. Vakarian?" 

A whispered name and tap on his shoulder woke Garrus out of his little, self-deprecating thought world.  It was Tyra and she was beckoning him to follow her quietly.  Intrigued, he stood and followed the asari's lead.  They walked down the dressing room hall, and Tyra stopped just before a turn, but signaled for him to look around it.  More nervous than he thought he would be, Garrus crept forward, peaked around, and felt his entire body fall slack. 

There was Shepard, standing on a small platform in front of three mirrors, and wearing a floor-length ballgown.  It was the same black and deep red like her armor, but instead of random stripes it gradually shifted from color to dark as it rose from the floor.  Better yet, it was completely strapless and tied up the back with bright, N7-colored, criss-crossed ribbon which made her waist look positively tiny. 

"Okay," he breathed while trying to definitively point a very shaky finger.  "You're getting that." 

"No way..." Shepard dismissed almost nervous.  "It's completely impractical!  I have absolutely no where to wear it, and probably never will!  I just tried it on for fun...and because Tyra made me.  She said no more boots until I put on a—" 

Garrus had already (mostly) tuned her out.  Shepard only stopped protesting he put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her through the mirror. 

"Does it matter if it's practical?" he purred softly next to her temple.  He wanted to touch it so badly, but was too afraid his gauntlets would snag the silk and ruin it. 

"Yes," Shepard chastised right back.  "It's just going to sit there, wasting away in my armor locker!  What if..."  She lowered her voice.  "What if we get hit, you know?  Now, I don't intend to lose anyone, but my cabin  _ is _ on the upper-most deck.  You and I both know that if...that  _ ship _ comes around, my room is probably the first to go.  Then this dress, and all the  _ thousands _ of credits spent on it, will be  _ wasted! _ " 

"Shepard," Garrus whispered back, grinning from ear to ear.  "Who  _ cares? _  Worst case scenario, we waste a few more of TIM's credits.  Best case?  Well, I imagine there will be a party when this is all over...  Something to celebrate your victory, perhaps?  We'll find a reason for you to wear it.  Trust me."  He brushed a mandible lightly against her impossibly soft skin.  "Besides, I know you already have the shoes for it.  A girl's gotta get her money's worth, right?" 

She smiled, almost giggled, just like he hoped she would.  "I suppose..." 

He stood up proudly with a satisfied grin and gave Shepard's bare shoulder a firm pat.  "Good!  We're settled then.  You're getting it.  I'll tell Tyra to wrap it up." 

Shepard opened her mouth to protest again, but Garrus had already turned around and was walking away.  So her interjecting hand fell, almost sadly, and she took another conflicting look at herself in the mirrors.  As he turned the corner, Garrus heard Shepard mumble, "Well...it  _ does _ match my armor." 

  
Grinning and swollen with pride, Garrus swaggered up to the asari consultant who was waiting just out of sight and put a hand on her shoulder as well. 

"Thank you, Tyra.  You're a miracle worker." 

The picture perfect fashionista beamed and nodded curtly.  "You're welcome, sir.  I take pride in my work.  That's why I've worked in high-end boutiques all over the Citadel for over a century.  I've seen it all, sir, and I can fix them all too.  Everyone is beautiful.  You just have to know where to look."  Tyra looked away slightly, almost blushing.  "However, I must admit that Ms. Gunn has a substantial head start.  She looks great in just about everything I put her in.  Did she used to model?" 

Garrus laughed and removed his hand.  "No, but she could have.  Don't be embarrassed, she has that effect on people."  He glanced back ever so slightly.  Shepard was still turning on the platform and checking out the back of her dress.  He returned to Tyra and gestured towards the stunning, but clueless woman in question.  "She's buying that, by the way, but probably won't wear it for a while.  Do you have any long-term storage options?  Maybe something fireproof?  Don't ask." 

Surprisingly, Tyra took the offhanded comment in stride—probably because they were already doing backflips over what their percent of several thousand was.  

"Absolutely, sir.  We sell fireproof, stasis boxes that are crush proof up to four-thousand kilograms.  A full-grown elcor can jump on them, and they still won't give." 

"Perfect," Garrus purred, loving his new found power.  "We'll take one of those too.  Go ahead and package that dress in it." 

Tyran kept a straight face, but had butterflies in their stomach.  "Mr. Vakarian, sir, are you aware of the cost of our stasis boxes?  They are five hundred credits a piece." 

At that moment, Garrus did something he had always wanted to do: Act like a rich, Capitalism-loving volus. 

"Is that all?" he rumbled with a raised brow plate.  "You know what?  We'll take three.  I think we can find a use for them." 

"Absolutely, sir," the asari chirped with a full bow of their head.  "I'll fetch them straight away." 

"Perfect," Garrus cooed and Tyra skittered off with a bounce in their step. 

Garrus watched the blue, pantsuit-wearing consultant go then turned to sit back down on his thinking bench. 

 

Okay,  _ maybe  _ Cerberus was going to pay for most of this, but he was buying that dress himself.  Possibly  _ for _ himself.  He almost didn't care if Shepard even liked it, he  _ loved _ it and was refusing to leave without it.  She was right about the safety aspect though.  Where would something like that be safest?  Cargo bay?  No, too must risk of it being sucked out into space.  Her room?  No, no, they discussed that already... 

What about the battery?  That was fairly centrally located, and well armored.  He could store it in the console or up in the overhead bins.  Even if the Normandy crashed, it should still be safe up there—assuming the locking mechanism held.  He would have to upgrade those. 

"What about you, sir?" Tyra asked quietly as they came back holding a data pad and followed by a hovering basket drone full of neatly packaged boxes.  "Your Cipritine X-49 armor is  _ very _ impressive, and you look quite handsome in it.  Is that what you're planning on wearing to dinner?" 

The question gave Garrus pause.  He'd been so excited about getting Shepard to dress up, and was so hopelessly in love with the armor, that he had pretty much decided to never wearing anything else ever again.  However, Tyra did make a very valid point.  He had more outfits than Shepard did, but most of his nice ones didn't fit anymore, or were thrown out in anger, or were currently sitting in storage somewhere, or had been destroyed with Archangel's base.  What  _ was _ he going to wear? 

 

"Hey, Garrus?" he heard Shepard coo as she walked up.  She was wearing her old outfit again, but holding a garment bag and a couple of boxes so Garrus forgave it.  Buy it first, then go change. 

"Yes, Allison?" he lilted back in matching tone, applauding himself for remembering not to use her real name.    
But it was so much fun to say... Shepard...Shep-pard...  _ Shh-EH 'kurrrd...  * _ ahem* 

"Do you mind if I go get a haircut before dinner?  Miranda works wonders with what she has, but I haven't gotten a real, proper, trim-up in...over two years." 

"Really?" Tyra gasped. 

Shepard looked over with a smile and a shrug.  "Yeah.  I've been busy." 

"Go ahead," Garrus rumbled smoothly to stop any further discussion of that topic.  "I don't know the first thing about hair, or what humans do with it, but if it makes you happy then...why not?  How long will it take?" 

"Depends," Shepard added cheerfully, clearly in a better mood than when they started.  "A good one takes about an hour, but a full makeover will probably go until dinner."  She tilted her head to the side with a smile.  "Remember what Miranda did to my hair after Omega?  Sure, that was out of necessity at the time, but I kind of liked it.  Did you?" 

He remembered.  It was funky, by human standards, and nowhere near military regulation, but Shepard looked good in it.  At least, as good as anyone could with half their head burned bald by a vorcha with a flamethrower.  Could humans do that to their hair on purpose? 

"It wasn't bad, though, it's hard to say what it would look like...uncharred.  Because I assume fire is not the typical tool for cutting hair?" 

Tyra looked a little wide-eyed, but they ignored it. 

"It's not.  We use scissors and razor blades because hair doesn't have any nerves, see?"  Shepard tugged on some strands to prove the point that she couldn't feel it.  "Also, I broke a nail or two...and my feet hurt...and, well, basically I think I deserved a spa day.  Can I go?  Meet you at the restaurant later?" 

Suddenly, Garrus saw the beginnings of a plan. 

"Sounds like a plan to me.  Will you need to go back to the room before then?" 

"Nope.  I'll just bring what I need and have the rest sent back via drone.  Should be able to get automated transport from here to restaurant, right?" 

Garrus waved her off.  "No need.  Just message me with your location when you're ready and I'll send a skycar your way.  Have fun." 

Shepard beamed.  "Oh, I will.  Thank you!" 

She leaned in, kissed him right on the crest, and sautered off, nearly skipping.  Garrus and Tyra watched her go, then, when Shepard was out of earshot, the asari turned on him. 

  
"So?  Ready for your turn?" 

Garrus almost grumbled.  This was like shopping with Sol all over again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Garrus's character is inspired by my husband and the relationship he has with his younger sister. He's your typical, fashion-clueless guy, but she's super stylish and (admittedly) a bit bossy. So, she uses him like a dress up doll and they both pretend to hate it... but she loves it and he's really grateful.
> 
> Having a younger brother (who's pretty much a clone), I never had that kind of relationship. If anything, I'm Shepard here ((except she's got military muscle. Lucky duck.)) because I have no style, I hate clothes shopping, and everyone who comes with me is always miserable except for the one time I used a Nordstrom consultant.
> 
> So, I thought it would be fun to add these dynamics into the story. That, and no one in fictional universes ever gets to keep their windfall money, and that bugs me. So, everyone? Meet Rich!Shakarian. I love them.


	12. La Mer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, a candlelight dinner...
> 
> Shepard falls in love with a bowl, Garrus tells a story about his dad, they both go crazy and, somewhere in the middle of it all, dinner is served.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I love comments. Any comment. It just good to know this is being read.

 

 

By the time Shepard sent him a request for transport, Garrus was already waiting at the rendezvous point.   

She wasn't late, he was just really early.  Blame it on nerves.

After she left, Garrus had let their fashion consultant, an asari named Tyra, have her way with him too.  Technically speaking, his shiny new armor was more expensive and 'nicer' than what he was wearing now, but the fashionista was right; it was hardly something people wore on a date.

This new outfit made his plates itch.  It wasn't uncomfortable, he was just uncomfortable in it.  Armor was heavy, cozy, protective, shielded you and your loved ones against unforeseen attacks; but these were just... clothes.  Nice clothes, but still just clothes.  At least the jacket had some plated microweave.  It wasn't armor, but it would make sure the first clip didn't burn through his carapace like a hot knife.  Also, it had a spot for his sidearm...which made him feel much better.

 _"Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to judge Shepard's reluctance to come out of that sweatshirt..."_  

The rest of his appearance was standard fare; black and silver pants, tight tunic, glossy boots that felt very strangely thin...even though he knew they weren't.  It was people like him were supposed to wear on a date.  Either kind of date, really.  Classy, but not too formal; stylish, but not too flashy... though he winced every time a gust of air touched his exposed spurs.  It had been years since he had gone out in public with those prongs unguarded.  Years since he had sat here waiting for a person to meet him for drinks.

Another wave of nervous nausea.  Why was he being so stupid about this?  Why did such a huge part of him want to run away and hide; vowing never to show his face here, or anywhere, or to anybody ever again?  After all, this was Shepard, right?  It was wrong to say it was 'just Shepard', but that wasn't too far from accurate.  They had a shower together today, heck, he fucked her just this morning!   

How many times was it now?  One, two...two in a row before they left...   

Five?   

Five.   

He had already slept with this women five times since he showed up at her hotel room last night, and the day wasn't even over yet.  With any luck, he could make it an even six before the Saturday cycle started.  But first, he had to conquer these damn nerves.

It was the anticipation that was killing him.  If he thought about it too hard, he realized that this was the moment of truth he had been waiting for since they met.  How he may never get another chance if he screwed it up.  So, he elected not to think about it.  If only his subconscious would take the hint...

Garrus took a moment to sit up on the sidewalk bench and try to look relaxed as skycars pulled up and took off from the transport terminal Shepard was scheduled to land at in t-minus ninety-seven point four seconds... but who's counting?   

Spirits, why couldn't he stop watching her coordinates get closer?  He promised himself he wouldn't do this.  He knew it would only worsen his anxiety, but every second feels like hours when bugs are swarming in your gizzard and your heart is actively sore from beating so damn loud.

Well, so much for relaxing.  Perhaps he should have just told her where they were going so she could have met him at the bar...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Shepard ran newly pointed fingers through her hair again, checking the vague reflection in the skycar's viewport.  She knew she looked good, but also felt ridiculous.  I mean, was she a soldier or a centerfold?  Come on, Shepard!  Pick one!

She turned away from the polished acrylic with a huff.  She was the absolute worst girl ever.  Not person, just...girl.  The only time she ever came close to being this pampered was that year she spent in Dubai with Pesh and the other "gemstone" girls.  Before then, she was an outlaw on the run from a Spector who got drunk one night and thought it would be fun to hang out with the Yakuza...  She blacked out and crashed one of their hundred-thousand credit cars on a bad drift.  It was the end of the line, a whole crime syndicate's worth of guns were pointed at her back, she had nowhere left to run—then Pesh bought her.  He cleaned her up, threw her in a dress, got her an education...it was some honest "My Fair Lady" bullshit.  All because she was a biotic, and a "ruby".

She never did find out if Pesh named her that because of her hair color or if he knew about... _her._ He had to, right?  Back then she hiding, but she wasn't _hiding_ like she was now.  She wasn't trying to be anyone else, but Pesh made her want to be better.   

Not that it ended up not mattering much.  Cerberus raided the place like Seal Team Six and stole her and all the other biotics away.  She was the only one who survived...

...she didn't dress up that much after that.

Shepard paused with a very strange thought.  She had just been able to relive that memory without any of the other voices in her head barging in and taking over.  She was still just...Shepard.  Come to think of it, she hadn't felt the horrible subcranial scratching of worsening sanity all day.  Or at least, she didn't remember any of it...  oh no.

Hands flew to her brow and Shepard fought to remember her whole day, in detail, from the moment she woke up last.  What was missing?  The bar, the the cubes, the table full of turians.  A bacon-flavored centipede, a hotel room, a slutty dress...a turian between her legs.  Wake up.  Stitches, an embarrassing (but secretly fun) phone call, a steamy shower, towels, pasta, talk about rockets and redheads.  His face lights up when the package arrives.  She stares at the sexy beast from the pillow top mattress.  Was he recording that?  Ask him later.  Return to Normandy, nice shootin' Tex, combat sims, shower, a spliff, some shopping and a haircut!

Holy shit.  There weren't any blanks.  There wasn't a single blank!  Not only had she not been traumatized by voices in her skull, but she had remained in control all day!  How was this possible?  For _years_ no amount of Alliance-funded medication or therapy had worked, but finally something was!   

Maybe Cerberus had fixed her after all.  Maybe waking up early gave her a bad start, but she was _healing_ now!  Could she dare even dream of it?!

Hell.  Maybe all she needed was a break...

And a date.

Holy shit she was going on a date.

Shepard looked down at herself.  The outfit Tyra picked out was, once again, more than on point.  The royal blue sweater dress was shorter than fingertip length, but hugged her perfectly with a classy, glossy black belt around the smallest dip of her waist.  Her neckline was unique, to say the least.  It was stiff, wide, and stood taller in the back while swooping much lower in the front.  The asari called it an "Alexander-inspired, queen-style, bateau collar" but in layman's terms it was a turian cowl.  Looked good on her, sure, but her new boots were her favorite...obviously.  Over-knee, seamless suede, came to stylish toe points, and hugged her legs just right.  Shepard grinned every time she looked at them.   

She always wanted a pair of Jimmy Choo's.  They were going right next to the Louboutin red soles.

Okay, being rich wasn't so bad.  Being a civilian wasn't so bad either.  She got to go to the spa on someone else's dime.  Massage, facial, cut&color, a mani-pedi... Someone _else_ did her makeup; which was _always_ a plus.  She may never have this chance again, heck, they all might die tomorrow, but really?  What a way to go.

Can't believe Garrus talked her into buying that dress.  What the heck was she going to do with that thing, stare at it?  Well, actually...

The skycar slowed and drifted to a stop.  Shepard grabbed her cute, new, shiney, designer clutch and slid down the seat towards the door.  Date with a turian.  Here we go.   

"I hope I don't scare him..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Notifications are silenced to prevent projectile vomiting.

Shepard is ten seconds out, but Garrus has been standing for at least the last forty.

He can't sit still.  He knows he should, but he really just can't.  That drink can not come fast enough...

He's leaning against an advertisement column just across from the transport hub, until it said his name and he almost shat himself.  After that he posted up against a nearby wall.

The upper wards used to be so...red and dirty looking.  Now they were a nicer, brighter, almost blue-ish hue that Garrus very much preferred.  The lower wards still looked like Omega, but that was fine because he didn't have to got there.  Well, except that's where Azure Towers was... but he'd get over it for that kind of reward.

Garrus couldn't believe his luck when his first choice of restaurant was still open.  He thought for sure it would have been destroyed during the geth attack, but some places have enough funding to rebuild themselves if the potential profit seems high enough.  The same chef was running it too.  His name was on the wall, but sometimes famous people forget where they came from.  Not Dylon it seemed.  Hard to believe that kid was still cooking.  His father would be so proud.

He should call him.  Again.  The last one...wasn't great.

Garrus was about to message Shepard to meet him at the bar after all because he just couldn't stand it any longer when something metallic caught the corner of his eye.  He glanced over and saw three, long, black metallic nails reach out and clutch the outside rim of a skycar.  They were followed by an equally black boot that kept going, and going, and going and...

He snapped out of it and started looking around for Shepard.  The only thing worse than looking nervous while waiting for your date, was being nervous and getting caught looking at someone _else_ while waiting for your date.  As curious as he was, he would really rather not screw this up.

The hustle and bustle of the Citadel's nicest wards on a Friday night made the station feel far more alive than usual.  Busy, yes, but not too crowded.  Even during dinner rush there was plenty of space for the rush hour influx.  It wasn't always that way, but it was good to see that someone had found it important enough to fix a centuries old problem while they had the chance.

Garrus was back in his omnitool, hovering over the send button, when he thought he heard something familiar.  Instead, what he whipped around to see was Boots again.  He already knew she was a woman by the way her fingers looked on the car door.  What he didn't know was that it was a _human_ woman, and that sent a whole new wave of conflicting feelings.  Her waist was tiny and perfect.  Her shoulders were broad and perfect.  Her legs stretched on for days and her tumbling, voluminous, mane of hair was, no fewer than, ten different shades of blue.

He looked away in a flash and pretended he didn't exist.  What was _wrong_ with him?  It had to be anxiety, had to be.  There is no way one night with Shepard had turned him on to human women.  He liked _one_ human woman, a very specific human woman.  The rest of them could go to hell.  At least, they could right now.  To reassure this fact, Garrus looked around for a female of his own species.  As if sent by the Spirit of Mischief itself out of spite, a small flock of them came tumbling out of a nearby bar, chirping and trilling in that bubbly, slightly-tipsy way his younger self would have salivated for.  His older self still understood the appeal, but Garrus forcibly peeled his eyes back to the screen on his arm and started calling up a random service manual.

At least he knew that turian women still did it for him, sort of, but now was not the time for that!  Why, of all nights, were there suddenly attractive women everywhere that he couldn't stop staring at?  This was, literally, the worst.

Then, he had an idea.  A flick of a finger sent the service manual away and, instead, he called up a password protected photo album and sent the images to the privacy of his visor.

There she was... Shepard.  On the day she became a Specter.  She wasn't looking at him, but she hadn't known he was taking snapshots of her anyway.  Then there was another from that night when the Normandy crew hit the bar to celebrate.  Tali was under Shepard's arm, but that was okay.  They were both smiling and happy.  A few more candid shots from the heat of battle, and some new ones he took at the bar.  Others she posed for, some were taken remotely by drone so he was in them, but none featured just the two of them.

He should fix that tonight.

The strategy worked.  Finally, the banging in his chest started to subside.  However, the little, blue pulse all but stopped when he scrolled to the end and saw Shepard wearing that floor-length dress again.  Their smiling faces beaming back at him through the mirror almost made him cry—or at least wish he physically could.   

She was gorgeous.  And she could mow down whole squads of mercs like they were made of paper.  That was even better.  A fighter and a lover.  A princess and a monster.  A blood-soaked supernova, wrapped in silk, and given a heart of gold...  Who cares what planet she came from, this woman was perfect.

During the momentary lapse in concentration, Garrus accidentally toggled an extra step forward and came upon the most recent vid.  For a split second, he was half tempted to let it play, but closed it in a flash when someone started talking to him.

"Damn.  You clean up nice."

The sounds of Shepard's moaning were just loud enough to make the voice unrecognizable, and the panic-stricken ringing in his ears didn't help.  He swallowed to spare himself the millisecond it took to lock the extremely personal vid away and gather what was left of his courage.  Then, Garrus looked at the speaker out of the corner of his eye.

Oh crap.  It was Boots, the blue-haired woman.  Think, Vakarian.  Think!

"Th-Thank you?  Sorry, I'm waiting for someone..."

Garrus snapped his head away.  This was fine.  Just ignore her and she will go away.

"Oh. my. god.  Do you not recognize me??"

The woman's voice was high-pitched and had a strange lilt to it.  It sounded _vaguely_ familiar, but not really.  She was probably someone he helped out of a tight spot while at C-Sec years ago.  She remembered him, but he didn't remember her because who remembers every case they've ever done, right?   That was it.  Had to be.  Just be polite, don't engage her, and keep an eye peeled for Shepard.  She'll take care of it.  Spirits, where _was_ she anyway?  The reservation was in five minutes!

"Holy crap!  You really don't, do you?!"

"S-Sorry, but no, I don’t.  Please excuse me..."

Garrus couldn't take it anymore.  He turned on his toes, _away_ from the blue woman, and headed straight for the bar.

"VAKARIAN!" She hollered back.  "Get your ass back here!  Now!"

He froze with more fear than he had ever felt in his life.  There was no way.  There was absolutely zero, fucking way this was happening.  This was all just a strange fever dream and he was about to wake up with a massive hangover in the battery.  Aaaany second now...   

Any... Any second now?   

No?

Crap.

He forced in the deepest breath of his life and turned back around.  After letting it out slow, he cracked his unobstructed eye open in the blue woman's direction.  The details were fuzzy through his squint, and the images of all the ways Shepard was going to kill him came flooding through his mind non-stop, but Garrus did dare to peek at the human.

Admittedly, even blurry and mildly pissed, this woman was a stone-cold stunner.  That was, exactly, what he was afraid of.  Shepard was going to rip his crest off and feed it to him.

"Oh...Oh my god this is _priceless..._ "

Great, now she was laughing at him.  Goodbye, ego.  It was nice knowing you.

"Garrus, open your damn eyes, please."

Fully accepting his miserable fate, the turian did as he was told and actually _looked_ at her, fully, in the face, for the very first time.  That's when his heart stopped, dropped, and fell out his ass... right next to his gizzard and brain.  And possibly mandibles.

The blue woman took a couple steps forward to close the distance between them and purred up at him.  " _Now_ do you recognize me, or was the hair too much?"

Garrus tried to say something eloquent, but (as previously mentioned) most of his internal organs were lying on the ground in the general vicinity of his mandibles.

"holy shit you're shepard..."

The woman beamed and batted long, blue to black ombre eyelashes.  "Bingo.  But, Shepard's dead, remember?  Very tragic.  So, tonight, you can call me Allie."  

She extended a hand in greeting, intentionally pulled up a bit of sleeve.  Garrus looked down and almost died.  Marking the skin of her forearm were a couple of red, still-healing tooth marks.  It wasn't much, but it was all the proof he needed for all of that lost confidence to come swelling back three-fold.

"Allie..." Garrus drew out over a devious grin.  "Huh.  Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you, _Allie_.  Care to join me for dinner?"

"Absolutely!"  She almost sang, looking nothing but happy.  "Lead the way, pretty bird."

He extended an arm, she curled hers around it, and Garrus lead them down the street with pride.  A few steps in, her sleeve discretely pulled up again and he made a very strange, untranslated noise that sounded almost strangled.  

"I know all humans look the same," she interjected soft but playfully.  "But...Come on, Garrus.  It's me."

"I...see that, it's just, very hard to believe."

She sighed.  "It's the hair, isn't it?  Damn it, I knew that was a risk.  But I want to have fun tonight, so I couldn't keep the red, you know?  People would recognize me and..."

Garrus stopped in his tracks and turned to her.  The soft look in his eyes shut her up completely and a graceful talon brushed a tiny, blue curl away from her face.   

"Stop."

That's all he said, and even then it was barely over a whisper.  Shepard's deep, purple lips fell closed.  Those icy, alien blues were nearly hypnotizing.  He could tell her to jump into traffic and she'd at least think about for a second.

The hand left her face and gestured behind them.  "We're here."    

Now, it was Shepard's turn to gawk.  The restaurant they were standing in front of was probably the nicest one on the Citadel.  The salarian who ran it was a celebrity chef, known all throughout the galaxy as being one of the best.  He had three restaurants, period, and they were all on every food critic's "Most Try Before You Die" kind of list.  Lists that Shepard, admittedly, enjoyed reading.

"No....freaking...way...  Shut up.  You have _got_ to be _kidding_ me!"

Garrus beamed.  "Ah, so you _are_ the woman I ran combat sims with this morning."

Shepard knitted her brows together in utter disbelief.  "Seriously?  Of course I am!  I saw you, literally, four hours ago."  He shrugged it off and started to lead them inside.  She, however, was still withholding judgement.

"Ah!  Mr. Vakarian.  You're right on time.  Follow me please, your table is ready."

Well.  All she could do was blink in a stunned stupor as Garrus lead her through the restaurant of everyone's dreams.   

Everything about this place was spotless and arranged just so.  The bigger parties sat in the middle, while the reservations for two were placed along either wall.  It was all so tidy and square, the whole restaurant looked a bit like an old-style circuit board with chairs for capacitors and glowing tables for chips.  However, the lighting is what took her breath away.  The wavy, sculptural walls emitted a soft, warm glow that mimicked the feeling of being under clear water, and the underglow of each seat waved with each other in a sea of green and gold.  In the very back there were three doors, perfectly matching the width of the tables on front of them.  Shepard imagined that one lead to the kitchen and the other to the restroom, but the third was extra wide and she didn't know what to make of it.

Interestingly, that's where the salarian host lead them and with a swipe of his omnitool the middle door opened wide to reveal a lift.  So, still trying to make sense of it all, Shepard exchanged leadership for the role of sheep and blindly followed inside.  It only went up one floor, but it did so very quickly.

"See, now that's what we need," Garrus purred with a smile.  "An elevator that rides smooth but doesn't take all day.  Think you can make that happen for us, Allie?"

Shepard blinked awake at the sound of her fake name and tried to look a little less dumbstruck.  "I can try, but I never claimed to be a miracle worker."  

He chuckled and they continued on.

The floor they stopped on was almost nothing like the last and almost entirely made of glass.  The 'underwater' theme continued, but the pallet changed from green and gold to red-ish purple and royal blue and the entire back wall was made of glass.  It looked out at the arms of the Citadel and out towards the area where her skycar pulled up and Shepard figured that this section must have been the overhang she and Garrus were standing under back when her initial shock began.  There was a beautiful, illuminated bar to their right and a single row of two person tables along the wall with the view.

Shepard could barely breathe.  She had never been anywhere so nice—without intent on robbing it.  

"How did you even get a reservation here?  And on such short notice?"

Her dextro companion gave her a nudge and a whisper.  "They know me here, but it's rude to talk about.  I'll tell you later."

She nodded silently.

Without her even realizing it, Shepard was lead out of the lift by the two non-humans who seemed to know what they were doing more than she did.  Once out in the main section of room, her eyes reached the ceiling and realized that it was covered with, what appeared to be, hundreds of glass jellyfish...or flowers...or spirals... or...wait.

"Is that a Chihuly?!" Shepard gasped, holding onto Garrus's arm to keep from falling.

"Good eye," the salarian host confirmed with a smile.  "But it is, obviously, not an original installation.  Our last iteration had a chandelier of his, but, alas, it was destroyed.  The piece you see here is a new arrangement by a local artist using multiple pieces from previously broken Chihuly works.  We think it’s symbolic of our own story.  This restaurant was wiped out, but we rebuilt, and now we're more better than ever.  Don't you agree?"

Shepard nodded dumbstruck.  "It's...gorgeous."

Her date lead the awed woman to her chair with a chuckle.  He tucked her into her seat, found his own, thanked their host, and gently placed a menu in front of her.  Meanwhile, Shepard was still looking up, taking in every little detail of the ceiling art.

"Never knew you had an interest in art, Allie."

The deep, layered voice snapped out of her trance and Shepard straightened up, suddenly remembering she was on a date.

"I do," she admitted.  "But only certain parts.  Dale Chihuly is one of my very favorites.  I've seen some of his work on the extranet but I never..." She looked up wistful.  "I never thought I would ever see one in person.  All he makes are glass sculptures, and he died a century ago.  I thought for sure they were all destroyed by now..."  She sniffled a little and pouted.  "Like the one that used to be here...  Fuck you, Sovereign..."

Garrus laughed a little louder than he meant to, but reigned it in as to not cause a scene.  They weren't the only ones in here, but the strategic lack of tables and ample spacing prevented a crowd.  Soft music played in the background (also salarian by the sound of it) and other couples were scattered around between bars and tables, enjoying their dates as well.  However, Shepard was one of only three humans in here, and definitely the only one part of a human-turian party.  

"Well, I'm glad I was able to make your night so early," Garrus purred when his amusement died out.  "Admittedly, it was dumb luck on my part, but still.  I won't complain."

Shepard smiled back at him.  "You're right.  You _are_ really lucky, Garrus.  Keep this up, and they'll make you primarch one day."

"HA!" He scoffed at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement.  "Right.  The washed-up cop turned failed vigilante?  The primarch?  Keep dreaming, Shepard....Allie.  Sorry.  I'm warning you now, that's probably going to happen a lot."

She rolled her eyes and hid behind a menu.  "Well, then try to keep it down, will ya?  Again, being KIA has some serious perks."  Suddenly, she perked up.  "Speaking of KIA...  Did you have time to go to Huerta Memorial?  Your bandage is different."

Garrus touched his face like he had forgotten about it, then remembered, and answered her.  "Oh, no.  If I did, I would still be there.  I went to Dr. Michelle's clinic instead.  She let me skip the line and I got out in record time."  He set his menu aside.  "Do you think it's better?"

Shepard was snickering.  "I do.  Whatcha you say to Chloe, hm?  Did you tell her why you were in a hurry?"

Her date looked sincerely puzzled.  "Well, yes, I told her I was going out and that I needed to get my wound cleaned up before hand.  Why?"

"You said that, exactly?" she smirked with a raised brow.  "Just 'going out'?"

"Um...yes?"  Inside Garrus's mind, a light bulb clicked on and he started getting awkward and apologetic again.  "Oh!  I didn't mean it like that!  I'm not...embarrassed or anything.  I just didn't see any reason to go into detail!  Like you said, I was in a hurry, and it's hard to have a meaningful conversation when someone in poking at plateless parts of your face.  I just answered her questions, sat down, waited, paid her, and came straight here.  I'm sorry..."

His face was pleading, but Shepard just shook her head.  "Oh goodness....You're still clueless, aren't you?"

Two blinks.  "About what?"

"Nevermind," she waved with a giggle.  "If you don't know, then I'm not going to be the one to tell you."  She picked her order and set the menu down.  "It does look much nicer, by the way.  Less field medic patch-job and more...well, someone who has access to better supplies.  Think Karen can do that?"

Garrus went back to smiling.  "She should.  Now, I'm not a doctor, but from what I can tell it gets applied the same way.  This material is just thinner and flesh colored to blend in."  He chirped.  "It also hurts less, so, I like that part the best."

"Me too," Shepard lilted with a curled smile.  "Get Michelle in touch with DocChawk and I'll make sure we stock whatever she used from now on."  

"Thanks."

"Anything for you, big guy."  She lifted her water glass.  "You know I love spoiling you rotten."

"Well."  Garrus raised his own.  "I guess that makes two of us."  

A smirk.  A toast.  Suddenly, life didn't suck so bad.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

By the third course, the drinks were flowing, the impromptu couple was chatting, and the whole Collector problem seemed light years away.  Perhaps that's why people on the Citadel weren't eager to jump through hoops to save the human colonies, it really _was_  light years away and a few less humans didn't seem like that big a deal.  Shepard and Garrus knew better, of course.  They knew that this was just the tip of the iceberg and that the Citadel was probably pulsing with low-grade indoctrination via the relay statue on the Presidium or just from the keepers themselves, but tonight, they didn't really care.  If the galaxy wanted the two of them to fight its battles for it, then, sometimes, those brave souls needed some R&R.  If the galaxy took issue with that, they could find someone else.  No skin off their backs.  For now, Shepard and Vakarian were on a wonderful date.  If anyone needed anything, it could wait until Monday morning.  You know, like regular people?

It is a freeing feeling, telling the Milky Way to fuck off.  As the night stretched on, and the two very different people made fun of each other's food, they both started to realize that fact.  Maybe this didn't have to be their fight.  Perhaps it was their own guilty conscious telling them to fight through hell for the ungrateful masses, and not some predestined fate.  It's not like Shepard was the only Specter, nor was Vakarian the only sniper.  The Normandy was unique, but only by the human Alliance's standard.  The asari had ships ten times as nice.  Hell, they built the Destiny Ascension!  What is the Normandy SR2 in comparison to that?

Not squat, that's what.  If no one believed their story about the incoming Reaper invasion, fuck 'em!  Their loss.  Why should everyone else get to be happy while they huddled in the trenches of war for, what, their own health?  Hell no!  They could live full lives if the Reapers came!  Evidence suggests that those metal gods only target major cities.  They won't bother traveling to a system for the sake of two people who posed no threat.  Saren had it all backwards!  They didn't need to prove themselves useful, they just needed to prove they were _un-useful._ Backwards savages who cared about nothing other than getting laid and laughing at each other.  Then, the grim reapers would pass them over and they could live out their lives in peace and harmony...just like they were now.

"I got you something," Garrus interjected while they waited for dessert.

"Oh really?" Shepard replied half drunk.  "What did you order with Tim's credits this time?"

She meant it as a joke, but Garrus twitched like he was mildly offended.  "Actually, I bought these myself."   

"Why??" she argued.  "You have nearly unlimited funds!  Every purchase helps bankrupt an organization we _both_ hate!  Why drain your own credits?"

He tilted his head.  "Remember the visor Archangel got you?"

"His last good deed before flying away from Omega?" she replied with a smile.  "Of course I do.  I wear it every time I gear up.  Why?"

Mandibles flicked in a humble smile.  "It's like that.  You've done so much for me, it only feels right to return the favor."

A long, black, velvet box came out of his stark, jacket pocket and was placed carefully on the table.  Shepard looked at it, then up at the turian, then back at the box before cautiously opening it.

"It's not a bomb, right?"

"What?  NO!"

"Okay.  Just checking."

Shepard looked inside and found...

"Earpieces?" she questioned with a head tilt.  "I see that they're smaller, but...what's different about them?"

"The world has changed since you left," he purred.  "Try them on.  Both of them."

"Both?  But I only wear—"  

"I know.  Trust me."

A casual shrug and the old was removed and replaced with the new with a simple pairing from her omnitool.  In the interim, Shepard heard the world as it was and it was very strange.  She took both out discretely.

"Where did you get these?"

"Ka REEE ka lek ti-sha _chrrrrir_ ha rrrrrrrrrrrRI!  ka lesh."

"Fascinating."

Both pieces went back in.

"You didn't understand a damn thing I just said, did you?"

"No.  No I did not.  You sounded like an angry, Roman turkey."

He fluttered nervously.  "Well, *ahem* that hurts..."

"Sorry."

"To be fair," he smirked.  "You sound like a pyjak gurgling salt water."

Shepard drew her lips in an nodded.  "That's okay.  I deserved that."

The turian tipped his chin. "Take them out again."

She did.

"Okay.  What's you're point?"

He grinned wide and sinister. "Okay.  What's your point?"

She jumped out of her skin.  

"AHH!!  What the fuck?"

"AHH! What the fuck?"

"That's fuckin' creepy!"

"That's fuckin' creepy!"

"Are you part mockingbird??!"

"I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite place on the Citadel."

Earbuds were shoved in faster than ever.

"Okay, seriously?  How the hell did you do that?"

Garrus was relaxing back in his chair and looking very, very pleased with himself.  "You only have one set of vocal chords, Allie.  Imitating human speech is pretty easy."

A creeped out chill shook her whole body.

"Garrus.  Your voice just went from sex appeal, to concentrated nightmare fuel."

Fringed head tilted to the side. "I'm sorry to hear that" (I love you)

If there was such thing as a quintuple take, Shepard just did it.

"Wait.  What the heck did you just say??"

He blinked slow and casual.  "I said I'm sorry that I frightened you." (It translates sub vocals now too)

As if on cue, the waiter showed up.

"Crème brulee?"

Shepard perked up instantly with wide eyes and a raised hand.  "That's for me.  And another bottle of wine."  

Garrus stopped her with a hand over hers.  "Actually, just the bill.  We have another stop after this." (A bar.  You'll like it.)

"Oh, will I?" Shepard questioned.  "What makes you so sure?"

He twitched his brow plates. (I know you)

She relaxed.  "Okay.  Point taken."

The poor waiter looked completely lost.  Thankfully, he just set the plates down, forwarded the bill to Garrus (who paid it without looking), and the couple went back to their last course.

Shepard had eaten many, many crème brulee in her time, but nothing like this.  On the surface, it was still a delicious bowl of custard with crunchy, sugary, toasted goodness on top, but instead of being a low-lying bowl this dish was slightly tall and loosely petal shaped.  Literally, the dish itself was wavy.  It was about the side of her outstretched hand and fairly short.  The sides alternated in color between bright purple stripe and clear blue glass and possessed very striking gold rim at the top.  It looked nothing like the standard ramekin she was used to and Shepard head tilted to the side, slightly spinning the base plate and eyeing the dish with perplexity.  Then, it hit her...and she almost went into shock.

"I can't eat this..." she breathed, pulling her hands back and visibly trembling.  "I jus—I just..."

Garrus looked up from his pyramid of multicolored berries that seemed to have the texture of water balloons.

"Why not?"  He asked with clear worry in his eyes.  "Is something wrong with it?  I can call them back..."

She shook her very pale face.  "It...it's a Chihuly."  Enormous, mostly white eyes slowly rose from the dessert to meet him.  "They served it in a _Chihuly._ "  

Surprisingly, Garrus flicked his mandibles and replied just as cool as ever.  "I know." (I told them to.)  

If there was a single _drop_ of blood left in Shepard's body, it would have been a miracle.  The woman who roared into battle like a sea of flames, the person who trash talked a Reaper without an ounce of fear, the soldier who had literally _died_ and came back making jokes about it...was stunned, completely wordless, at the sight of a little, glass bowl.  To Garrus, it was pretty funny, but Shepard felt like she was having a heart attack.

"I would eat it, if I were you," Vakarian purred while picking up a fruit.  "That's going to be much harder to carry while full...and I'm sure you would hate to break it." (It's yours.)

Shepard blinked, but only barely.  Her face was stuck somewhere between horrified and unbelieving, and would likely stay there until the end of time because her brain, stomach, and heart all failed simultaneously...then fell out her ass with a thump.

With her very last breath, she uttered one, final statement.  "...you're lying."

"I've never lied to you, Shepard," her angel of a date purred softly.  "Why would I start now?" (Your face is priceless...oops.)

That tiny, subvocal bumble is what finally brought Shepard back to life.  Horror turned to joy, disbelief turned to sparkle, and her smile was brighter than the sun itself.

"How?" She asked with a gentle shaking of curls.  "How did you do it?"

"Like I said..." He popped a fruit and swallowed it.  "They know me here" (Spirits I've missed fruit)

Shepard grinned with blushing laugher, then calmed herself enough to Garrus in the eye.   

"Thank you.  You really do spoil me rotten."

"Night's just getting started," he lilted with a touch of classic swagger.  "Now, eat it so we can get it cleaned up and sent back to the ship."

"Screw the ship," she laughed while reaching for a spoon.  "I'm putting it in the room.  I never want this thing out of my sight again!"

Garrus shrugged.  "As you wish."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

 

Dessert finished, coffee sipped, and every restaurant employee forced to swear a life debt to Shepard's new bowl, the new couple left the pinnacle of fine dining arm-in-arm, smiling all the while.

"Now," she implored when they were only a few steps from the door.  "I order you to tell me how you managed that, Vakarian.  People wait for _years_ for a reservation there, and you waltzed in the day of without a hitch...   _AND_ somehow convinced them to serve me dessert in a priceless work of art!   _HOW?!_ "

Garrus looked around and waited until they were down the street a little ways, then turned into a park.  To Shepard, it looked a bit like Central Park's walking trails and brought back a nostalgic relaxation that made her body warm and fuzzy.  Again, he couldn't have known that it would, but Garrus was, officially, the Spirit of Blind Luck made flesh.  It made her laugh, on the inside, but she kept the feeling to herself.

"Alright," he began as they strolled along an illuminated trail.  "I suppose there's no harm in telling you, but, it's a closely guarded secret so this stays between us.  Understand?"

Shepard knit her brows and smirked at him.  "Me?  Keep secrets?  Surely you must have me confused for someone with Spectre clearance..."

He nudged her.  (I'm serious.)  She agreed, and the turian continued.

"The salarian who started, owns, and still runs La Mer, is Executive Chef Sur'ki...who I'm sure you have heard of."  Shepard hummed to confirm and he nodded.  "Well, he wasn't always the person he is now.  In fact, his real name is Dylon and he has a rap sheet as long as my arm."

"Seriously?"

"Yes.  He has done a lot in a very short amount of time.  But, that's what happens when your family gets murdered and the gang responsible forces you to join them at gunpoint."

Shepard coughed and swallowed thickly.  "Yeah.  I imagine..."  Thank goodness he wasn't a mind reader.

"It was a pretty tragic situation," Garrus hummed, gratefully none the wiser.  "But Dylon was still considered a menace.  Everyone wanted to catch him and ship him off to Purgatory Station.  Or just kill him and get it over with.  Everyone, except my father."

She looked up surprised.  "Really?  Mr. By-The-Book wanted to bend the rules?"

He shook his head.  "Not bend them, not really, more like stop everyone else from taking matters into their own hands.  My father is stern, but he's not mean or cruel.  Everything he does is based on logic, evidence, and careful consideration... Drives me crazy sometimes.  There are days when I wonder if he's secretly a machine...  But, occasionally, he makes a few valid points."  

Garrus sighed like that fact was painful to admit, but Shepard didn't press.  She just leaned into his touch, kept lazily walking, and waited.

"He was the one who eventually cornered Dylon.  He got a lead that the boy had a legitimate job to cover his tracks and hide the influx of funds, so my father paid him a visit.  Unsurprisingly, now at least, that job was working at a kitchen in the lower wards.  Just a grunt job, chopping vegetables and washing dishes, mostly... but the chaos of dinner rush still caused Dylon to let his guard down.

"My father slipped into the kitchen and snuck up on him while he was mixing something in a bowl.  The kid freaked out and threw it right at Dad's face and tried to run, but my father was in his prime back then and caught him almost immediately."

Garrus nodded to himself, as if trying to imagine himself in his father's place at the time.  The look in his eyes was questioning.  Would he have done the same thing?  Now, the answer seems obvious, but at the time it was probably insane.

"As my father tells it, Dylon was cussing and tried to pull a knife—because he knew my father was C-Sec, even without a uniform..."

"That obvious, huh?"  Shepard interjected.

He nodded with a brow twitch.  "Oh yeah.  Dad's one of those people that just smells like an officer.  He's retired now, but to this day no one asks what he used to do.  Instead, it's usually something along the lines of 'How long were you in law enforcement?"  Garrus chuckled.  "Imagine me, but without a sense of humor whatsoever."

Shepard snickered and looked her friend from head to toe and back.  "I can believe it.  Go on."  She snuggled closer.  "I love your stories..."

He huffed that off with an eye roll, but did go on.

"So, Dylon's freaking out by the restaurant dumpsters, my father's got him pinned, face covered in sauce, and is about to cuff him when some of that sauce falls into his mouth...or so he says.  I think he tried it on purpose."  Shepard giggled.  "Either way, apparently, it was really good.  My father asked Dylon if he made it, and the crying boy admitted that he had.  He went onto cry about how that wasn't stealing because they were going to throw all the ingredients out anyway, even though they were still good...  You get it.  He started rambling about his grievances with the restaurant and never mentioned the gang he worked for once.  Which, gave my father an idea."

Shepard had an ah-ha moment.  "The juvenile work program!"

Garrus pointed at her.  "Exactly.  My father saw the kid's potential and knew all he needed was a fresh start.  So, he generated a new identity under the guise of whiteness protection and found the kid a job in a better kitchen out of his former gang's territory.  Eventually, a friend of a friend adopted him, gave him a more stable home environment, kept him out of trouble, and...well?  About fifteen years later, here we are.  Dylon the criminal is no more, and Executive Chef Sur'ki is, consistently, one of the galaxy's best."

His human date shook her bouncy, vibrant mane in amusement.  "And that's it then?  Your dad created a celebrity just by giving him a second chance?"

He rubbed her arm.  "Vakarian luck is genetic...and contagious.  However, don't let that take away from Chef Sur'ki.  He worked tirelessly and didn't have a single thing handed to him.  He created his new life completely on his own.  All he needed was a little help getting out of a bad situation.  Also!  That's one less person the Citadel has to pay to keep locked up, which is always a good thing."

Shepard scoffed.  "Really?  You?  Against throwing bad guys in prison?  Who are you and what have you done with Garrus Vakarian?"

The long arm around her shoulders gave the blue woman a squeeze.  "Think about it.  If Dylon had been put in prison, it would have cost taxpayers thousands for every year he was in custody.  He would probably just be getting out now, and a registered felon, so he probably would have turned back to a life of crime to make ends meet.   

'Instead, my father took a calculated risk on a hunch.  The Dylon was clearly driven, his former boss at the restaurant had nothing but good things to say about him, and the kid seemed to have some talent.  Now, instead of the Citadel economy supporting him, Chef Sur'ki supports the Citadel bringing in thousands and thousands of credits every night.  Seems like a better solution, don't you think?"

She had to admit, the man made a decent point.  Besides, how could she resist those eyes?  Every time they met her own it felt like being tickled by snowflakes.  They stopped on the path where the perfectly manicured trees parted slightly to reveal a stunning view of the little park.  It wasn't as big as Central Park, but it's careful landscaping gave the two a very similar feel.  The new, evening light of the upper wards gave everything a slightly artificial blue-shift, but Shepard forgave it.  She couldn't pretend they weren't on a space station, but it was still pretty enough.

"As heartwarming as that is," Shepard hummed, gently breaking their comfortable silence.  "That story still doesn't explain how _you_ managed to get a reservation...because I know you didn't call your dad."

Garrus sighed, as much as a turian can, and admitted he hadn't.  "Sur'ki is grateful.  He's never forgotten what my father did for him.  Furthermore, Chef Sur'ki has a family of his own now, and neither his children, nor his mate, have any idea who he used to be...because my father was careful, kept his word, and never once tried to blackmail him after he came into fame and fortune.  The only contact my father ever kept with him was a single note of congratulation when Sur'ki's restaurant won its first Galactic Star."   

He leaned over at Shepard with a smile.  "So, in return, there is always an available table and a free dinner for two waiting at La Mer for any member of the Vakarian family...as long as we call ahead.  There is an unspoken rule that we don't take advantage of the Chef's hospitality, and we don't ever go more than once a year--if at all--but it has always been that way, And will be for as long as Sur'ki lives and still serves as La Mer' executive chef..."  His head tilted with a wink.  "..and, now you know."

She put a hand on her mouth in silent wonder.  Seriously, talk about lucky.

"Wait," she blinked.  "So...you didn't pay?"

He shook his head.  "I did, this time.  Dad usually did to, except when..."  He swallowed the thought.  "When the anniversary of my parent's bonding lined up with trying times.  I believe that was only once though...much to Chef Sur'ki's disappointment.  He always gets upset when father tries to pay, but, well, the man is as stubborn as you would expect him to be."

Garrus shrugged and took on a happier tone.  "Tonight, he came out to chastise me while you were in the restroom.  He was afraid the bill was going to break me, even though I promised it wouldn't, but he wouldn't take no for an answer.  So, in the end, we compromised... and you got a very pretty bowl."

"Sweet!"  Shepard exclaimed with a grin.  "Now everybody wins!  And...yeah.  Thanks for not telling him about Tim's account."

He scoffed.  "Of course!  I know better than to reveal that secret.  See, I don't know the Alliance does things, but the Turian Hierarchy still hangs people for treason." (No thank you, I'll pass)

She nodded in understanding and enjoyed the scene.  After a beat, something clicked, and she ribbed him.

"Hmm... Maybe Daddy Vakarian isn't such a bastard after all, huh?"

Garrus barked a laugh into the air.  "Well, now, I didn't say _that..._ "  

Shepard didn't join him, just waited.  Sure enough, Garrus hung his head then started staring off into space.  

"I...I should probably give the man another chance." (He's been right more than I like to admit.)

"Never met him," she muttered pensively.  "But, maybe you should."

 

Shepard settled into the warmth of his keel and took the mostly silent moment to appreciate her new ears.  For the first time ever, she didn't feel like she was wearing ear plugs.  Each side could be controlled individually for volume and level of translation.  So unlike before, when she would gravitate to wearing one side or the other, she could hear a person's natural tone with both ears as well as their translation into common; neither of which overpowered even the softest sounds of the world around her.  It was nice.  For once, language felt and sounded natural again.  That, and her friend didn't seem so alien...which was both good and bad.  Depends on how you look at it.

She could hear his subvocals too.  The natural tones were shifted up or down slightly into her range of hearing and what could be shifted was simply transcribed.  It was like a little whisper in her ear; one she actually didn't mind hearing.  You know, as opposed to the grating, scratching, crippling kind she had (unfortunately) become accustomed to.  Instead of that little voice in her head screaming with Texas-twinged profanity or accent neutral stiffness (or even the echoed doom of Harbinger), this whisper was deep and soothing, almost like a lullaby.  It sounded like her friend and, right now, it was humming a gentle tune of comfort that only had one lyric: happy.

Eventually, Shepard allowed her smoky eyes to open and she hummed a message right back.

"I love them."

She felt a series of muscles twitch inside of him like a frog stuck to some electrodes, and her friend's little silent tune stopped.

"What did you say?"

She looked up with a black and blue blink.  "I said I love them.  My new earpieces?  They make everything sound fantastic and are so much lighter than my last pair.  It sounds like a whole new world.  Thank you."

"Oh," he chuckled with a butterfly flicker.  "Well.  Glad, to... hear it!  I did some research and..um.. I hoped you would like them.  I didn't really..."   

Shepard just stood on her toes and kissed him.  As cute as this man's awkwardness was, she knew when he was twisting in the wind and needed saving.  This was one of those moments.  Garrus held her close and nuzzled her back, the little song in his chest starting up in a flash like a string quartet that had only paused for a toast.

"I believe there was some mention of a bar?"  Shepard purred with their faces still close.

"Of course," he hummed back, singing "happy happy" deep inside.  "Did you want some place quiet like Darkstar or a bigger party like Purgatory?" (or...we could just go home)

She considered that third option for a second, but ultimately decided that she didn't dress up this nice just to be seen in one restaurant.  Also, Malcus worked at Darkstar...and it was Friday night.  Perhaps it was best to avoid that scene for now.

"I say we party," Shepard exclaimed as she nudged him, trying to summon a second or third wind from them both.  "The night's still young, and who knows when we'll get dressed up like this again, right?  Seems a shame to call it early, let's go nuts!"

Garrus huffed in slight surprise, then grinned right back.  "You're right, Shepard.  Why stop now?  Let's have some fun while we still can.  You want to walk there or..?"

"Woah now," she teased with a raised hand.  "I said nuts, not batshit crazy."

He snickered and lead them away.  "Alright, I'll call us a ride."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case this wasn't clear, I mashing every version of the Citadel together. That place is super confusing. It's huge, but we're only seeing tiny slivers. Some places are new to us, but the NPCs say it's always been there... 
> 
> I get it, it's a video game, and the devs did what they could with what they had, but can you _imagine_ how much bigger and better these environments would be on Xbox One and PS4? Omg. Goosebumps.


End file.
